12 Months With You
by holeyearmuffins
Summary: So here's the dealio/throwdown/stitch: 1. Mikan has to live in the same house with a male model for a years and 2. she just made a bet saying she won't fall in love with him, which is nonsense since Mikan thinks love is absolute baloney.
1. Red Light

**A/N: **Hey everyone! So lately I've been pretty stressed with school (my sorry excuse for not updating any of my fanfictions.... SORRY!) But this morning I woke up with an idea for a new fanfic, and it inspired me... hope you guys enjoy this!

_**12 Months With You...**_

-Mikan-

Choruses of "good work today, Sakura-san!" and "see you next week!" rang all around me as I waved and thanked all of my fellow classmates. I quickly strode out of my modeling class and headed down the main hall; careful to remain silent for the several live radio shows taking place. Waiting at the end of the hallway stood my manager and best friend, Imai Hotaru. At the sight of me, she hung up on her cell, but began to type rapidly on it.

She immediately took off at a brisk pace towards the main lobby, despite her two inch stilettos and pencil skirt, causing me to scurry after her and perspire a little. I frowned at the back of her head, already sensing something amiss- normally she would walk beside me at a slow pace and tell me my schedule for the week.

Luckily, I didn't trip over myself or ram into anyone.

"Have a nice day." The nice receptionist lady of _Momiji Modeling Agency_ called to us. I waved back to her with a small smile.

Five minutes later we finally were on the road in Hotaru's car. I knew not to ask Hotaru what was wrong, and to let her tell me when she felt like it. I stared outside of the window at the cloudy skies and frost covered trees which dotted the sidewalks of Tokyo.

At last she spoke. "So your debut is coming up."

"In three months, right?" I asked, bouncing up and down with excitement at the thought of my coming out into the modeling world.

"It's going to be delayed to next year." Hotaru said flatly, tilting her face slightly towards me.

We stopped at a red light.

I furrowed my eyebrows a tinge at the indefinable emotion I saw in her mauve eyes, attempting to figure out why she wasn't angry, or at least sad. A smudge of disappointment marred my temporary excitement.

"But... aren't you going to tell me why? I know you have a good reason to delay it- you _know_ how much I've been looking forward to this moment." I couldn't help but sound accusatory.

The red light turned green, as the car swiftly moved forward; it was then that I realized that we were heading towards an unfamiliar area.

"I pulled some strings and managed to land you an interview with Shouda- you have a big possibility of shooting a portfolio featuring her clothes."

Shouda Sumire was one of the most successful fashion designers of 2009; she was well known in the fashion industry as an efficient woman who one didn't want to be on bad terms with.

I choked on my saliva and rotated in my seat to face her fully; my eyes as wide as my grandfather's meat buns.

"Bull." I blurted, covering my mouth immediately with a gasp.

Hotaru arched one of her eyebrows, amused and slightly taken aback by my uncommon use of "swear" words.

"We're going to meet her now, so look presentable. We'll be there in fifteen minutes." She motioned to the back seat to where my makeup box and best blouse laid.

Even in my shell shocked daze, my body knew what to do, and by the time we stepped up in front of Shouda-san's office, I looked... well... like a model.

"Remember- smile as much as you can, and be sincere with everything you do. Shouda isn't one to take false models." Hotaru told me sternly, before knocking on the door.

Her knocks reminded me of the dull clanging of bells that would ring before an execution took place.

"Come in." A feminine voiced said.

What seemed to be a few seconds became a millisecond, as I found myself standing in front of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and a scruffy, but handsome, man.

Taking a massive breath, I gathered enough courage to stop trembling from anxiety; this would be my first major photo shoot ever, as well as the thing that will make my debut significant. I tried to not mull over the enormity of this situation for too long.

The moment we stood in front of her desk, Hotaru and I bowed deeply; the former doing this action gracefully, while I almost killed my back from bowing so low.

I wonder how she managed to polish her hardwood floor so nicely. It almost looks like bars of milk chocolate...

"Please, sit down." She gestured to the seats. I stopped my train of thought and sat down across from the man. I resisted the urge to fidget with great difficulty at the formal atmosphere, and opted to stare out the expansive window which covered the entire wall.

Those clouds sure do look unusually fluffy. They almost look like white Howalon puffs.

A short moment later, another beautiful women entered, placing two hot cups of coffee in front of us; leaving as quickly as she arrived.

"So-" Shouda-san shuffled through a couple of papers on her desk, my attention reverting to her.

How did she get her fringe to be so perfect? And that hair color really suits her skin and verdant eyes.

Hotaru kicked me subtly, but it hurt enough to snap me out of my reverie.

"-how long have you been learning how to model?"

"For two years, Ma'am."

She scribbled something down in a notebook. I glanced at the man sitting across from me, and was shocked to see that he had tawny colored eyes. He shot me a covert wink before staring idly up at the ceiling.

"Why do you think you should model for me?"

I took a moment, carefully choosing my words. "Because I'm different from the other models- I give honest opinions on everything, I don't believe in lying, and I am very stubborn when it comes to things I believe in."

Shouda-san halted her rapid writing and peered up at me; scrutinizing my sincerity behind this statement. I met her stare with equal intensity with a surge of courage.

I can do this.

Out of my peripheries, I saw Hotaru smile infinitesimally.

"How tall are you and what year of high school are you in?" She asked, breaking off our eye contact.

"About 5'6'' and I'm a third year." I snuck in a smile here, remembering Hotaru's reminder.

"So you're in your final year of high school. Do you think you can handle this enormous responsibility while maintaining your grades? I don't allow slackers to work for me."

"It will be hard, but I know I am capable of balancing my school work with modeling." I said firmly; this much I believed in wholeheartedly.

Without missing a beat at my sincere answer, Shouda-san said, "could you please follow me to the back, so that I can see how well you fit into my clothes."

I got up and followed her into another room, where hundreds of different articles of clothing lined the walls. I gaped, openmouthed, at the luxurious room; taking in the elegant, European theme which adorned it. There was even a folding screen in the corner of the room and a long lounge chair in the very center.

"Try on these three outfits." She placed them delicately in my arms.

Going behind the screen, I let our a silent breath of relief. It felt like the folding screen was protecting me from her intimidating presence.

I tried on the first outfit; it was a cute, white summer dress that had a short hem in the front, but it gradually grew longer in the back. I quickly twisted my hair up in a bun to add a flourish to the look.

I walked out from behind the screen with my air of confidence back. I saw Hotaru, Shouda-san, and Koko sitting on the lounge chair. The latter wolf-whistled, much to my embarrassment. I averted my eyes to the top of their heads, and suffered from my short attention span once again.

His hair reminds me of the color of hay. No, a golden field of wheat. Maybe a cross between the two?

Shouda-san immediately got up from her seat and stepped over to me, examining the fit of the dress on me.

"Well this one certainly fits like a glove." She commented out loud to herself. "Go try on the other one."

Once again, I changed, but now I was not so confident as before. I couldn't tell if Shouda-san like me or not; she hasn't given any implications of her thoughts.

Maybe she didn't like the fact that I was half an inch taller than her. Or maybe I shouldn't have day dreamed a lot. What if-

I was not behind the protective screen anymore, but in front of the three spectators in my second outfit; a light, knee-length skirt with a blue striped blouse. I noticed that the blouse's sleeves were a little too long for my arms, and Shouda-san seemed to have noticed that too. To solve this problem, she shimmied the sleeve up to my wrist and pinned it there.

I took this as my cue to leave, so I did, and came back in my third outfit with my hair out of its bun. It was a green plaid mini skirt with a long black sweater on top. While the sweater's sleeve were also a bit long, it added a certain charm to the look.

"Does anything feel uncomfortable?" Shouda-san asked me, while taking more notes in her notebook.

"No, not at all! I have always loved your clothes, but I've never seen these outfits before. Which collection are they apart of?" I inquired politely.

"They were in my Fall 2009 Collection." She responded curtly.

I frowned and said, "I apologize if I'm wrong, but that collection only had evening gowns. I remember seeing your show with my class."

At long last, the formal and tense atmosphere dissipated. Shouda-san finally smiled kindly at me while the man gave a bark of laughter.

"She didn't fall for it, Sumire. Well- welcome aboard, Sakura." He announced, offering his hand. "My name's Yome Koko and I am the photographer for this old hag's upcoming collection."

I shook his hand gratefully with a bemused expression while Shouda-san ignored his jibe.

"So, we have a lot of preparing to do. Are you ready, Mikan?" Shouda-san asked me as she handed Hotaru a folder.

"Wait- I don't geddit." I said intelligibly.

"It means you got the job, Mikan." Hotaru drawled.

A light bulb went off in my head.

"I did?"

Everybody nodded.

"Oh... I GOT IT!" I squealed happily, and a flower of euphoria bloomed in my chest as I realized that my future as a model was looking very bright. I began to hop up and down excitedly while holding onto a very disgruntled Hotaru. I then proceeded to do my victory dance, not caring that two strangers were watching me. "I-got-the jooooob, I-got-the-joooob."

"Alright then. I'm glad you are very enthusiastic and excited because this will probably be your hardest job yet. You're photo shoot starts tomorrow at 8 A.M. at this location. Details are inside the folder." Shouda-san's strict voice came back with full force, causing me to stop my parade.

"Thank you so much for allowing me this opportunity. I swear that you won't regret it!" I told her genuinely, bowing at a 90 degree angle, and exiting the place with Hotaru walking next to me. I exploded yet again when we were inside the safe confines of her car.

"I'm going to model for Shouda-san!" I said over and over again, high on my overwhelming glee. With all restraints kicked out the door, I greedily grabbed the manila folder and opened it. My happiness bleeding into worry.

"It's going to take a year to photograph this portfolio?" I asked.

"Yes." Hotaru said in a bored tone.

"And I will be having a shoot once a month?"

"Mhmm..."

We stopped at a red light.

"And the theme is... the progression of _love_?"

"No, Mikan. It's just a very large typo made by Shouda." Hotaru said sarcastically, her annoyance coloring her voice.

The red light turned green as we headed back home.

"But- but- I don't understand! Who's my partner, and how does one model the progression of love?" I asked desperately, troubled over the theme.

"We'll find out who your partner is tomorrow, and aren't you a model? Use your skills to interpret the theme."

I frantically read the rest of the paper, my eyes landing on the last paragraph. Fear overcame my brain, as I reread and double checked the excerpt to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

Oh dear.

"And I... have to live with this person for a full year?"

Hotaru snorted. "Obviously. Shouda is known for making her models convey authentic emotions by placing them in corresponding situations. If she wants you to feel 'in love,' then it will make sense to make you and your partner live together. The pictures will feel more realistic."

I rested my forehead against the cool window, feeling a headache coming on.

"Is there anything else in the folder?" Hotaru asked more gently, taking my pain into consideration.

I peered inside with terror, afraid that a monstrous piranha will come out next and kill me.

I actually hoped that would happen.

Unfortunately, the rest were some papers for Hotaru to sign and a list of things I should bring to my new house-

Wait a minute.

New house? I won't be living in my current home? I won't be able to see Hotaru's face in the morning anymore, or eat Anna's food? Instead, I will be sleeping near a stranger who's _male_, in an unfamiliar house, for a portfolio??

I snapped out of my mental hysteria. It's only a job, nothing will happen to me. This will only take _one_ year, which is _twelve_ months... and after that, I will be a very successful model with a very successful portfolio under my name, with lots of job offers.

This will be a piece of chocolate cake... I hope.

Hotaru's car came to a stop at a red light.

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**A/N:** So? What do you think? Review with your thoughts/constructive criticism! (Sorry for the grammatical errors, guys.)


	2. He's Such a Dead Man

**A/N:** Ugh, as I was typing this chapter up, I realized that I never put in any disclaimer!!! :O I'm such a klutz!!!! Anyway, here is my disclaimer...

_Disclaimer:_ I will say this once, and once only. I DO NOT OWN GAKUEN ALICE OR THE CHARACTERS, PLOT, ETC.

-Natsume-

"And that's a wrap! Thank you everyone for the hard work!" The director of the photo shoot said satisfactorily as he sauntered over to me with a wide grin. "That was one of the best shoots I have ever done. It was a pleasure to work with you, Natsume-kun."

I made a sound of annoyance in my head. If he was content with only this level of modeling, why am I even here?

"No, the pleasure was all mine. Thank you, Mr. Director." I replied courteously, though it was strained.

Being the dimwit he is, he did not catch my ingenuity. However, at the tone of my voice, my manager came hurrying over to me.

"I am very sorry to interrupt your conversation, but Natsume has another shoot to attend. So if you will excuse us..." I silently thanked my manager, Tobita Yuu, as we strode away from the irritating man and into my dressing room.

As I was getting my face stripped of the little concealer that was put on me, Yuu rambled about my next photo shoot; I was used to not knowing my full schedule, as it would probably give me an intense migraine.

I gave one of the makeup artists a wink, unsurprisingly receiving an embarrassed blush in return.

How predictable.

"The shoot is for Shouda-san's new line of clothing dedicated to people around their late teens and early twenties. The theme is the 'progression of love,' you will be getting more information about that when we get to the location, and you will have a female partner."

My initial feelings of displeasure gave way to interest. Maybe I can whittle my time away by messing with her. I began to formulate different ways to irritate my fellow model.

Reading my devious face correctly, Yuu began to panic, frantically cleaning his frameless glasses out of habit.

"It's Shouda-san! Please, Natsume! You know how she can be like when you fool around." The dark circles under his eyes seemed to grow with stress as he thought of Sumire's legendary tantrums. He encased his clammy hands around mine. I looked down at our hands with a raised eyebrow.

He must be pretty desperate, which means...

"I will tell her about _you-know-what_." Yuu threatened, the once quiet and timid man replaced with a menacing one.

Just as I thought.

I decided to humor Yuu this time, feeling sorry for him. At the same time, though, I knew my manager would never go through with his threat; he was far too nice and kind.

With one look at my disgruntled expression, Yuu became his normal self again.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Koko, already bored, and irritated at my female partner.

Typical women.

We were standing in front of a small coffee shop that was sheltered from the frosty cold wind; the extras already in place inside of the shop and on the sidewalk, and my casual outfit already on. Not enjoying the feeling of my neck being strangled by my shirt, I released the top three buttons on it, smirking at the excited mutterings of all the women on set. One of them was bold enough to walk up to me, thinking that I was eyeing her out of interest.

If only she knew that I was going to play with her, and then destroy her bravery.

"Hey there, Handsome." She drawled, while she twisted a strand of bleached out hair.

I mentally took two points off for creativity. Women always call me that instead of my name.

"Do you know my name?" I asked, casually sliding a hand into the back pocket of my denim jeans.

"Yes, I do. It's Hyuuga Natsume."

I ignored her creepy voice and zoned in on her face; one point off for her fake tan, another for her heavy make up, and a third one for her badly done botox job. Thinking of what I was about to do, I flashed her a smirk, to which she misinterpreted as a green light to hit on me even more.

But before she got the chance to do so, I said bluntly, "get out of my sight, you ugly hag. I don't date boring and average girls like you."

Her saccharine face turned sour, as she raised a hand to strike me.

"Better not do that, unless you want your entire modeling career to be ruined." I warned, not lifting a finger.

I smirked delightfully, as she cursed angrily before stomping away to her assigned place with a furious expression.

That lasted for a record-breaking five minutes before I got bored.

While the other women swooned over my 'bad boy' personality, the sound of clicking heels approached from behind me, along with the faint scent of fresh citruses.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! I-" I turned around just in time to see a mediocre-looking girl in her late teens trip over herself and land face first on the sidewalk. But upon further inspection, her coffee-colored hair splayed out on the sidewalk in a curiously artistic way, while the light pink peacoat she wore complemented her olive skin nicely.

Quiet chuckles came from the extras, while Koko jogged over to the embarrassed female. Her manager merely walked over to me and we shook hands.

"Imai Hotaru. I did not realize that Hyuuga Natsume would be working with us. You must be very generous to be willing to work with a completely new model." Imai told me with a bit of suspicion, wary of my intentions.

I paused at her words. "My manager didn't tell me she was new. How long has she been modeling?"

"This is her first photo shoot."

The mischievous side of me warred with my nice side- should I turn on Yuu, who undoubtedly withheld this fact from me on purpose, and make the newcomer's first shoot complete hell, or should I play nice?

The answer was obvious.

After she got up from the side walk, she grinned sheepishly at Koko, and shook his hand brightly. I began to plot different ways to trick the girl, allowing them to get increasingly elaborate as I realized that she was the 'naive and pure' type.

How boring and ordinary. She was probably a detestable person inside.

"Oh, well the reason I was late is because I slept pretty late last night... I had a lot of homework to make up." She explained to Koko before bowing towards me without seeing my face. "I am Sakura Mikan! It's very nice to meet you..." She trailed off at the sight of my face.

I gave her my signature smirk, foreseeing her inevitable blush and self-conscious smile, ready to say a biting remark. Instead, she merely gave me a blank look.

"I'm very sorry, but I don't know your name." She furrowed her eyebrows, but then brightened. "You smell like my favorite season!"

Is this girl stupid?

"I'm Hyuuga Natsume. It's a pleasure to meet you." I introduced myself suavely, thinking that she should have at least heard my name from somewhere.

She only smiled that goofy beam of hers, totally unaffected by my charms.

Interesting. Maybe this shoot won't be as completely disinteresting as I originally thought.

"Alright, since Mikan-san is finally here, I can start explaining the shoot." Koko declared, slinging his camera around his neck. "So basically, Sumire is looking for a portfolio that is designed like a calendar. In other words, we will be having a shoot once a month for a full year; all featuring her new line, _Clarity_."

I grinned to myself, thanking Sumire for giving me a large amount of time to get on Orange's nerves.

"And as for how we're going to shoot the theme, Sumire and I thought of letting each monthly shoot show the significant events that happen in a couple's relationship. For example, since it's January, this shoot will be about the two of you meeting each other. I thought it would be very fitting for your encounter to happen inside of this coffee shop."

I remained unmoved at Koko's words; pretending to be in love was easy. I've had enough experience as a model to do these shoots without a hitch.

However, I can't say the same about Orange.

When I glanced over at her face, I nearly burst out snickering at her ghastly expression and stiff posture.

It was like she expected a herd of piranhas to come out and eat her alive.

"Of course, as each month passes by, the shoots will become increasingly harder for you, Mikan. You two will become more and more intimidate."

Her gray eyes comically widened with terror as her breath quickened to a dangerous pace.

"Hey, Orange. You better stop hyperventilating; it's getting on my nerves." I commanded.

Women. They always over exaggerate small things. And they always get pissed when you order them to do something...

"Okay." She said, and immediately controlled her breathing and forced herself to breath normally.

Taken aback, I forgot about my irritated feelings, and filled it with curiosity. My earlier perceptions of her flew out the window.

Interesting- this girl is definitely different from every female I have met.

Koko watched our exchange with an amused look, before motioning for us to follow him into the shop.

Inside, the shop was warm and cozy; the aroma of roasted coffee beans colored the air, while the plush armchairs and couches added splashes of vibrant blue and cream. And to complete the room, a fireplace was lit on the wall across from the door, painting a very inviting picture.

"Just be as natural as possible, Mikan-san." He consoled Orange, who was already becoming calm. "You won't have to touch Natsume-san at all!"

I snorted. Not yet, that is.

"So I want to try a couple of different scenes with both of you. I have a couple of different encounters I want you guys to try out, and we will go with whatever feels the best. Okay?"

I began to get irritated with his constant attention to Orange. He shouldn't be babying her; he knows that she needs to learn to not expect sympathy from others, especially photographers, who can be brutal.

"So in this first scene, Natsume-san will be an intelligent man who falls in love with an angelic woman the moment he sees her enter the shop." Koko explained in a professional-like voice. "It will help a bit if you pretend you're in a movie. Create a character for yourself and engage in some dialogue. I need three photos per scene, so be imaginative and experiment with different angles and poses." He left us after being summoned back outside.

"Why are you so nervous about this shoot? Are you intimidated by my good looks?" I inquired cockily, but mentally I was rolling my eyes at her overly dramatic reaction to such a trivial thing.

She has become average again.

She gave no inclination of answering any of my questions, her gray eyes glazing over.

"Okay, places everyone!" Koko called through a loud speaker, barging into the coffee shop with a wide beam, and effectively stopping my emotions of annoyance. "Yeah, that includes you, Takanashi. Or do you want me to tell everyone who you have a crush on?"

A mousy man sprinted over to his spot with a pale face.

"Yeah, that's right." Koko said proudly, and then snickered obnoxiously. "Natsume! What do you think you're doing? Even Mikan is in her place already."

I looked down at the spot Orange used to be, and sure enough, she was gone.

I wanted to curb stomp the idiot who gave this moron the loud speaker.

"Okay, my camera's ready. Enter whenever you want to, Mikan! Remember, think of this shoot as a movie."

I settled down into a plush chair that was facing the door, taking out my prop glasses and novel in the process. I propped up an elbow and rested my chin on my hand, becoming serious; my modeling side taking control. I frowned a little for good measure, to add to my somber character.

At the sound of tinkling bells, I looked up from my book to see Orange standing there in a whirl of makeshift snow; her cheeks and nose were red from the cold weather, standing out on her currently pale face, while her auburn hair was windblown in an attractive mess. At that moment, I pretended to be entirely enraptured by Orange, allowing my eyes to enlarge and my posture straighten.

While her personality may be average, if you look closer, her looks aren't that bad. Maybe a bit over average, but not enough to tempt me.

"Hi, may I get a tall latte, please?" She asked brightly, the man at the cash register also shocked by her beauty.

He robotically handed her an empty cup before she looked around the room for an empty spot, and met my eyes. I felt something move inside of my chest, but ignored it, as she broke off our eye contact and timidly walked over to me.

"Is this seat taken?" She glanced at my eyes again.

Inside, I smirked arrogantly, coming to the conclusion that she was falling for me, like every other women.

"Cut!" Koko yelled into his speaker.

Orange breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down in the armchair.

"Your eyes remind me of strawberry snow cones." She said with a grin.

I gave her a strange look.

"I avoided looking into your eyes because I was afraid I might daydream again." She confessed sheepishly.

"Why are you so difficult to figure out?" I inquired, honestly wanting to know if this was all an act or if this was her true nature.

"I'm difficult to figure out?" She repeated, bemused.

"That's what I just said."

"Well, you're also a mystery to me." She gave me a small grin, showing off a dimple.

"A lot of women tell that to me." I dryly answered, thinking of all the compliments I have received about my 'indefinable' demeanor. "But why do you say that, Orange?"

"Oh- I was just thinking how very kind you must be, since you are willing to work and live with me, a stranger."

I backtracked at her words. "Hold on- I'm going to live with you?"

She looked at me with an affronted look. "Just because I'm not as pretty as the other women here, doesn't mean you can use that tone."

"Okay, this isn't funny, Orange." I looked at her straight in the eyes, and was dismayed to see that she wasn't bluffing. "Really?"

"Really."

"How long do we have to live together for?"

"As long as this photo shoot lasts."

"So a year."

"Yep."

I gave a long drawn out sigh. Just another thing Yuu kept from me.

He's such a dead man.

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**A/N:** Review if you want to see a preview to the next chapter and if you think living with Natsume would be awesome!!


	3. Fate the Unfair

-Mikan-

The first part of our shoot went as smooth as a baby's butt. Red bean paste? Michael Bublé's voice? Anyway, you get my point. However, there is one thing that has been bothering me for a long time. And unfortunately, Lord Koko of Obnoxious Land picked up on it.

"Mikan," he said, pulling me aside after we finished the first scenario, and everyone was getting lunch from the poor interns. The two of us agreed to drop the suffixes earlier. "Have you ever been in love before?"

I shook my head violently. I bit my lip, already aware of what he was going to say.

"While it is understandable for someone as young as you to not have experienced it before, I need you to _look_ like you're in love. Right now you look only mildly interested in Natsume in the photos so far, which isn't good enough for me." He peered down at me with a reassuring smile. "And I know you're capable of doing this; you're a resourceful girl. I would really hate to give this job to someone like Koizumi-san."

I nearly bristled at his words, hating whoever invented 'love.' I crinkled my eyebrows together with frustration.

_Love_ is so very overrated and fake.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Fortunately for you, the next two scenes won't require you to show as much emotion as this scene, but you need to learn sooner or later that you can't half ass this job." Koko warned me.

I nodded and left him without saying a single word in our conversation- too deep in thought to see where I was going.

Until I was inhaling dirty carpet.

I heard an amused chuckle coming from above me as I let out a sigh. How very embarrassing to have your partner, nonetheless Hyuuga Natsume, find you splattered on the ground... twice.

"Aren't you worried about getting Sumire's clothes dirty?" A familiar baritone voice asked me.

With a mortifying squeak that I swear I do not make normally, I immediately bolted up from my position. Inspecting the front of my peacoat carefully, I detected no signs of marks or dirt on it. I gave a sigh of relief.

"Are you always this clumsy, or are you pretending to be a loveable klutz to make me fall for you?" He inquired arrogantly from his place against the wall, sandwich in one hand and hot soup in the other.

My traitorous mouth watered at the torturous sight as my stomach gave an audible growl.

"Take your pick, I'll go with any," I told him quickly, not even realizing what I was saying, "but can you _please_ tell me where I can get the beautiful, scrumptious looking sandwich from? I'm starving."

He quirked an eyebrow and smirked mischievously, which I missed, unfortunately.

How Fate hates me. Dang.

-Natsume-

There I was, looking at her deceptively innocent face, wondering what fantastic prank I should pull off, when she gave one to me on a silver platter.

Excellent.

"Well, they seem to have run out of food here!" I told her, taking on a tone of regret. I almost burst out snickering at her wounded face. This was going to be too easy.

"But you know..." I leaned down a little bit and gestured for her to get closer. She complied eagerly. "One of the interns hogged too much of the food, but unfortunately she's... got a mental disability." I smiled inwardly at her astonished face.

"Really?" She asked in a hushed voice. I nodded gravely and pointed to the Assistant Director of the photo shoot, who was, indeed, holding a surplus of food.

"I'm sure if you asked nicely and simply, she will give you some." Right when the words left my mouth, she disappeared from in front of me and was already heading over to the Assistant Director. I secretly whipped out my cellphone and began recording the moment.

After a few seconds of quietly chuckling at the Assistant Director's bewildered face and Orange's over exaggerated hand motions, the latter's face became brilliantly scarlet. My happiness deflated a little bit at the lack of shouting and slapping there was supposed to be. I braced myself for a screaming fit when Orange came stomping over to me in a rage.

I foolishly attempted to explain myself to her, "look it was all-"

"The Assistant Director is not mentally impaired!" She muttered to me.

"I kno-"

"But it's perfectly understandable why you think that. I'm not blaming you or anything, I know you would never trick me like that." She smiled brightly up at me. "Right?"

I was dumbfounded. Why is this girl's though processes so radically different from other women? What caused her to be like this? Strangely enough, I found myself chuckling and handing over my lunch to her.

"No way would I _ever_ trick you!" I sarcastically agreed; to which she ignored for she gracefully stuffed her face full of sandwich.

She suddenly began to cough fiercely.

Without thinking, I tipped my lukewarm soup into her mouth and roughly patted her back.

"Are you okay? Christ- you're supposed to _chew_ your food, not gobble it down like you have no esophagus." I scolded her, not bothering to question my newfound concern.

I halted abruptly at the sound of her muffled giggles.

"I gotcha." She said gleefully, giving no heed to her use of informal language towards a senior.

I saw her face and noticed that she lacked the usual side effects of choking on something: no teary eyes, blotchy face, or watery nose. I took in her victorious look with a smirk.

"You knew that I was pranking you." I accused in a friendly manner.

"And it would have been an awesome one if it actually worked." She replied merrily, polishing off the soup. "Plus, I was really hungry. Never underestimate a female's appetite."

"Well what am I going to eat now?" I folded my arms in front of my chest.

"Why don't you ask our mentally disabled Assistant?" She answered before prancing away to the dressing room.

-Mikan-

In the privacy of my dressing room, I cheered ecstatically, much to Hotaru's chagrin. That felt _good_. His face was absolutely priceless, I wish someone could've taken a picture of that.

Now I understand what those Kodak commercials mean.

After dressing in a nerdy, but strangely cute, outfit, consisting of an overlarge long shirt with Korean-styled glasses, I walked back on set. I began to feel sorry about not getting something for him to eat, what if he starved to death? What if he took my prank too seriously and complained to Koko and Sumire and got me fired? Grandpa flashed through my mind, as I remembered him scolding me for taking things too far.

I'm sorry Grandpa, I will repent for my crime later on by locking away my Howalon for a night.

After falling into a state of despair at this, and feeling ill with dread, I saw Natsume walk on set with a calm face on.

No angry shouting, check. No disappointed Koko, check. No murderous Hotaru with gun in hand, check. Maybe I will get my Howalon after all!

As he strode over to me, wearing a very casual outfit with dark denim jeans and Converse shoes, Koko converged upon us like a middle-aged lady spotting a discount on watermelon at the grocery store.

"Okay, so here's the next scenario: a nerdy girl bumping into the most popular guy at her school, and consequently spilling coffee all over shirt. So, rather than having the two of you portray love at first sight, like the previous scene, the two of you will be showing hate at first sight. And then, of course, the two of them fall in love with one another after a few mishaps." He finished, setting up his camera. "Mikan will-"

"When did the two of you drop the suffixes?" Natsume interrupted rudely, his angry eyes attracting mine in an instant.

They really do look like strawberry snow cones... and cherry icees.

"Are you jealous?"

How about Anna's famous ketchup with her absolutely divine omelets? Wait sixty seconds-

"Why would he be jealous?" I asked simultaneously with Natsume.

Koko's cellphone rang right when he was about to answer us. I resisted the urge to drop down and tie all of this shoes together in a big knot. That'd teach him.

"Hello, Sumire?" My glorious fantasy flew away from my mind. "Yuh-huh. Mmm... I can be there in about an hour and a half, I'm still in the middle of the shoot. No, I guess we don't have to do that. Okay, got it." He hung up and looked at the two of us with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, looks like we're going to have to end this shoot with this shoot. Something came up with Sumire, and I'm booked for the rest of the month. Anyway, make this one your best one, Mikan and Natsume!" He cheered, quickly walking out of the coffee shop to get the rest of the extras.

Natsume grunted unhappily; I guessed that it was because he was irritated at Koko's evasiveness over answering the question. To be honest, I wanted to know too.

The two of us were directed into our places, we didn't say a word to one another. At least I didn't say anything, because I was beginning to get worn out from the constant modeling, but I have a feeling that Natsume didn't talk to me for another reason. Maybe I can wheedle the answer out of him on the way to our house.

And with that being said, our shoot began with Koko yelling himself hoarse. When he gave me the cue, I walked towards Natsume, who was at the other end of the shop with an overly done woman cozying up to his side on the bench they were sharing. His face had the word 'smug' written all over it as he draped an arm around her shoulders, while I stared down at the ground and clutched my books to my chest. I spotted his shoes and approached them, feeling sorry for Natsume's outfit, and rammed into him as hard as I could.

One high-pitched shriek later, and I found myself staggering back from our painful collision. I dropped my books for good measure, but stared at the ground in dismay, for I dropped my glasses onto the floor and shattered them into a trillion pieces. On instinct, I knelt down to pick up the pieces, my hair falling down around my face to conceal my humiliated blush.

"What do you think you're doing, you nerd?" The black haired girl asked me with real maliciousness, causing me to frown. She was getting way too into character.

"Get lost." Another voice rang out, the forcefulness behind his voice making me get goosebumps as I looked up, thinking that he was addressing me. Instead, he was facing the extra that was next to him, while she was busy trying to clean his shirt. He had on a look of disgust. He pushed her away and looked down upon me when she ran away crying.

I quickly glanced down at the floor again after we made eye contact, and adlibbed the scene by continuing to pick up the pieces of glass, waiting for Koko's familiar 'cut!'

I felt a large tanned hand accidentally brush against mine, before I looked back up at his face with surprise. His face was emotionless as he help me with cleaning up the glass, until I felt the memorable stinging pain of a cut. I quickly pulled back my hand with a hiss.

"Cut!" Koko shouted while he rushed up next to me with Hotaru. "I need a band aid here! And antiseptic, too!" The items were given to him, which Hotaru promptly snatched away and applied to my cut. I then realized that Natsume had disappeared.

"Who had the bright idea to make her glasses fragile? Bring me the prop people! They should know better." The photographer burst out angrily. Hotaru snorted inaudibly in agreement. "And we had such a good shoot going on too. Oh well, I guess we're done for today people. Go home, and get me the prop group already!"

Hotaru helped me up from the floor and dusted off my pants for me, which touched my heart deeply, before she narrowed her eyes at my ankle and pulled up the leg of my pants; revealing a surprisingly long cut on my shin.

"I swear, only you would get a cut like this from something as insignificant as a pair of glasses breaking." Hotaru muttered, her temper getting the best of her.

And yet again, I wonder what I did in my past life to make Fate despise me so much.

-Natsume-

"That was a clever trick you did back there. How did you manage to pull it off?" I asked in a suave voice, barely hiding the fury I was feeling towards the extra who was with me. Earlier, I heard her insulting Orange, and managed to connect two and two together. Now here she was, calmly redoing her eyeliner like nothing was wrong with the world.

How badly I wanted to yell at her senseless.

"Oh, it was nothing. Just a little sweet talking with one of the props boys, and convincing him that these glasses were all the rage now. Sucks for him for being so foolish and easy to trick." She smiled coyly up at me. "Just don't tell anybody. Of course, it was all so that you and I could get together, Handsome. _She_ was just being a little attention-"

A picture of Orange flashed through my mind and I snapped.

"Come with me." I commanded, brusquely grabbing her wrist and wrenching her away from her makeup stand.

"Ow! You're hurting me!"

"So? At least you did something to deserve it. What did Orange ever do to you, huh? Why is it, that only the good people get targeted in this world, and the bad people don't? What happened to justice?" I stopped my rant but continued to drag her along with me to the fast approaching brunette and Koko. "I hate people like you." I told her coldly, before presenting her to Koko.

Like me, Koko realized who the culprit was when he saw guilt ridden face.

"I think you should apologize to Mikan for what you've done." Koko stated.

Orange wore a face of revelation, as she too put the pieces together, and it soon became one of pity.

"No, it's okay. Forcing her to apologize won't do anything." Orange said firmly, her gray eyes holding no resentment or anger like her opponent. "Let's go, Hotaru." She turned around and walked away, her manager striding beside her without another word.

I turned to Koko with an angry look- this woman needs some form of punishment to teach her that it's not right to do this. Even though I did agree with Orange, this woman shouldn't waltz off with no repercussions.

"I'm very sorry, Tomoko-san, but you are hereby fired from this shoot, as well as banned from any shoot run by me and Sumire. You will also have a permanent record of this moment." He told her with no remorse, escorting the hysterical woman off the set.

Needing to calm down a bit, I jogged over to my car and drove towards the house I was supposed to live in after checking in with a very irate Yuu. I arrived there in under ten minutes, even though it was a little over 20 miles away, and by then I had myself under control.

The two-story house was a quaint cottage located in a pretty rich neighborhood, with a white picket fence, and a wraparound porch that was protected with mosquito netting. The entrance was framed with morning glories, and the front yard was dominated by a growing cherry blossom tree and some pansies.

I spotted Imai's car outside of the large garage and pulled up beside the car. Grabbing my duffle bag, I went into the house, and was greeted by a fuming Orange and a homey living room.

"I said I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine." Imai said in an irritated voice. She shoved Orange onto a plush, cream colored couch.

As I took off my shoes and listened to their bickering, I studied the living room; taking in the creams, pastel yellows, and walnut furniture and carpeted floor.

"I can stand up just fine, see?" Orange stood up obstinately. "Stop babying me, Hotaru! I'm a grown girl!" She pouted.

Imai rolled her eyes, sighed, and walked over to where I was standing, and said, "she's all yours," before taking off.

I looked back at Orange to see her hopping all over the place and examining every nook and cranny of the house.

I think Fate is out to get me.

After getting settled in, which didn't take a while since most of our stuff will be arriving the next day, Orange's monstrous stomach decided to break our heated debate about buttered and kettle popcorn.

"Is there anything in the fridge?" I asked, getting up from my position on the floor of our living room.

"Yeah, I think they provided us with some food." She mimicked my actions and followed me into the expansive kitchen. " And it was really nice of them to redecorate this house. They did it so wonderfully."

Silently, I agreed with her statement. The kitchen had state-of-the-art appliances, along with sky blue walls and an island for the stove in the middle of the room. I walked over to the refrigerator and was met with numerous vegetables, meat, and other staples.

"Do you know how to cook?" She asked excitedly, already seated at the island. Even though I would have been annoyed if it was another girl, I wasn't with Orange.

"Who doesn't?" I asked, teasing her for my amusement.

"Some people aren't blessed with the talent." She mumbled to herself, drawing circles on the counter with one hand.

"Yeah, I figured, judging from how utterly clumsy you are. You'd probably cut off your thumb or something if you tried." I said, wincing at the image it conjured.

We fell into a comfortable bout of silence, with my chopping and peeling filling the air. I turned around to heat up the stove and whistled to an imaginary tune.

"How do you portray love?" She asked me suddenly, fiddling with the hem of her coat like an insane woman. Her eyes were averted downwards.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Just feel like you're in love." I poured a little oil into the pan and turned on the stove.

She bit her bottom lip and frowned up at me, finally halting her fidgeting.

"That doesn't help at all, you know."

I sighed deeply. What an amateur.

"Do you have a first love?" I asked her.

"No." She said simply.

"Do you have a food you love?"

"No."

"An actor you love? Or a song?" I was beginning to get progressively more irritated by the moment as she shook her head.

"Do you love _anything_?"

"I don't believe in love." She answered straightforwardly.

I was taken aback by her proclamation- enough that I stopped cooking.

"Not even _butter_ popcorn? How about Howalon? You certainly have a large amount of that stuff stashed in the cabinet. And what about Imai? Don't you love her?"

Mikan shook her head.

"I like them, but I don't love them. I wouldn't go to the ends of the Earth for them, or take a bullet for them."

I snorted at the sight of anyone taking a bullet for Howalon.

"Well you have to have something you like, that's what being human is all about. We're programmed to love." I started up my cooking again, thinking hard about why this girl so vehemently denies love.

"Are you sure what you're feeling is love? Have you even _been_ in 'love'? _Seen_ 'love'?" She shot back.

"You can't explain love, Orange, that's the fun of it. And yes, I've been in love once before." I cracked an egg into the pan and flipped the omelet onto a plate. "Here you go."

"Well I'm pretty confident that the 'love' you experienced was probably just your hormones. It's physical attraction that you feel. Humans are programmed to mate, and to mate only; to pass on one's genes is the meaning of life." She debated, picking up a fork a sucking down half of it in a second. I began making a second one for her.

"Then how about this." I leaned forward with a smirk. "Why don't we do a dare?"

Her gray eyes became guarded at my words, but they held a hint of intrigue.

"I will make you fall in love with me by the end of our twelve month photo shoot, and in return, you will take back the words you just said as well as being my slave for a month." I declared, placing the second omelet on her clean plate.

Orange pondered upon this and then said, "okay, but if I don't fall in love with you, then you have to take back your stance on 'love' and be my slave for a month, too."

I nodded in agreement, holding out my pinky finger. She linked her slender one around mine, and just like that, we were in the middle of a ridiculous bet that would soon turn into something more.

Don't screw me over now, Fate.

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**A/N:** So? Good? Bad? Review for a preview to the next chapter. And for all of you anonymous reviewers, leave your e-mail behind please! :)


	4. Five, Four, Three, Two, One

-Mikan-

"'Do the dishes, I'm going to unpack upstairs.'" I muttered scornfully under my breath. "Who does he think he is? Bossing me around like that... I swear he PMS's at the drop of a hat; one moment he's happy from making the deal with me and the next he's as cold as Hotaru." I donned on a pair of rubber gloves. "I can just hear Hotaru now. Saying stuff like, 'you are such an idiot, Mikan. Why did you go along with his petty little trick? Why did you agree?'" I scrubbed at the dishes with reckless abandon, Hotaru's voice now bleeding into my head and taking up a life of its own. _Your parents are rolling in their graves right now. How could you be so foolish? You're going to be deflowered before New Year's Day... before your 18th birthday, you foolish girl._ I felt the blood drain from my face and dropped the plate I was holding. I hadn't even considered of the possibility of that happening. Natsume would never do that... would he? _Great job, Mikan. Way to use your head._ I heard sarcastic clapping ricocheting throughout my mind. I thumped my head to the counter and groaned, realizing that I was officially off my rocker.

But isn't it unfair that even in my mind, Hotaru's clap is able to ooze sarcasm so well? And what right does it (she?) have to berate me about the deal- it's only a voice.

And just like that, I could hear Hotaru scoffing and saying "'No, I'm not only a voice. I'm the voice that's going to kick your-'"

"We're going supplies shopping tomorrow." A low baritone voice called from the second floor.

I looked up from the soapy dishes, startled at the sudden sound of him, and effectively breaking the furious lecture I was receiving in my head. "Didn't they provide everything for us already?" I proceeded with rinsing all of the dishes briskly, sighing with relief that Hotaru's voice finally decided to shut up.

"As I said, we need to buy more cleaning supplies. They only provided us with dish soap."

Anyways, does this always happen to people? Do their inner voices take after people one knows? Or is my mind getting the best of me? I hope this was a one time thing, because to be honest, Hotaru's voice scares the snot out of me... made up or not.

After drying the dishes, I began the tedious process of placing them gently in the cabinet without breaking any of them. Of course, with me being me, a porcelain cup slipped out of my grasp as I was attempting to put it on the top shelf of the cabinet. Covering my ears in anticipation of the inevitable, I was relieved to see that Natsume caught it in time.

"You can uncover your ears now." He said with an almost exasperated face. His garnet eyes glittered prettily in the light as the lighting in the room hit his face in an appealing way. I was struck with how his body was perfectly proportioned; broad shoulders, defined arms, nicely sculptured face... "Are you just naturally clumsy, or do you do this for fun?"

I stopped admiring him with a huff, remembering his unpleasant attitude. "You've asked me that already. Do you really think I do this for fun?" I deadpanned. He gave no response and opted to put away the rest of the dishes with enviable efficiency.

Showoff.

I grabbed my suitcase and made my way upstairs, spotting the bathroom, and went through my nightly routine. I paused midway when I heard the PMS-er knocking on my door in an obnoxious fashion.

"I'm going to open the door."

Why does his voice always sound so charismatic and appealing? Did he sing before his modeling career? His parents probably have the 'good voice' gene and gave it to him along with his good looks. I clipped my side bangs back with some bobby pins and twisted my long, wet hair into a bun.

"Is this how you usually dress for bed?" Natsume asked, looking at my tattered sweat pants and long shirt with a crooked eyebrow. I nodded nonchalantly, cleansing my face of the junk the makeup artists put on me for the shoot. No use in being self-conscious now. He leaned against the door frame and watched me with acute interest.

"Aren't you going to take a shower?" I inquired, peeking at him through one soapy eye. How does he get to be so perfectly tanned? And his skin is flawless...

"Obviously, Orange. I'm just waiting for you to finish up... unless you would like to watch me." He ended with a crooked smirk, blinding me with his conceitedness.

I decided to change the subject after I heard the irate 'tsk' my inner Hotaru gave. I frantically scoured my mind for a good topic to convert to.

"So how long does it take for you to go through your nightly routine?" I barfed up like a pregnant woman.

Smooth.

But at the same time, I was bizarrely curious to see what he would say. He must spend about 25 minutes at the most.

He gave me another one of his 'are you alright in the head?' before replying with, "about half an hour, give or take a minute. You?"

Whatever, five minutes off.

"15 minutes." I said proudly, not skipping a beat.

That's right. 15 minutes, and damn proud of it. And that's the first time I have ever said da- I mean the real form of dang. What would Hotaru say if she was with me right now?

Actually I don't want to know.

This time, instead of looking at me with a strange face, he guffawed. "You're a girl... and a model at that. Shouldn't you take _four_ times as long?"

While he was saying this, I patted toner onto my face but ended up slapping my face instead. "Who takes an hour to brush their teeth, shower, wash their face, and dry their hair? Goodness they must be as slow as my grandfather on a hot day."

He shook his head with amusement. "The things you come up with. I can never keep up with that mind of yours. Nor do I ever want to." He picked up my cleanser and tossed it up and down, making perfect ellipses in the air with each round. "The first girl model who comes to mind is Koizumi." His face darkened with consternation at the chick's name.

There he goes again, changing his mood whenever he desires. And he says _he_ can't keep up with _me_.

"Oh- her name rings a bell. I think Koko mentioned her to me today. Is she very talented?"

"If I said, 'not as talented as you, Orange,' what would you do?" He put my cleanser back in its rightful place while he watched me finish up, his hand coming within my vision for a beat.

What the- his nails are perfectly done. I wonder if he gets manicures...

"Hypothetically speaking?" I asked him jokingly.

"Just answer the question."

"I would say, 'Oh, Natsume-sama! How very kind of you to say, I wish you would not flatter me like so!'" I undid my bangs and faced him with my hands clasped to my chest, conjuring up an aura of fake bravado.

"You are such a weirdo." He said before mussing up my damp bangs.

"Why, Natsume-sama. How dare you use such vulgar language to poison this maiden's innocent ears!"

"You want me to throw away all of your Howalon?"

I immediately sobered up with my head tilted downward in false shame, but it snapped back up at Natsume's laughter. Even though it was for a measly three seconds, and it was more of a chuckle than a laugh, the joyful look he had on was forever engraved in my mind. It was like the happiness one feels on a hot summer's day, and I was surprised to feel myself becoming giddy. Much to my mortification, I felt warmth gathering in my cheeks as I beamed at his bewildered face while my legs transformed into jelly. I was also surprised to feel myself wanting more.

I think I'm coming down with the flu. Oh dear God I hope it's the flu.

"Your smile is very nice, you know. Smile more." I advised him before exiting the bathroom with alacrity. I tossed my suitcase carelessly into the nearest bedroom, rushing down the staircase, where my knees promptly gave out, and I landed with a thud on one of the carpeted stairs.

Not cool, knees. You'll pay one of these days.

I remained where I was, wondering why I felt so warm and lightheaded, and leaned my hot forehead on my knees. I inhaled deeply trying to counter the weird symptoms I was experiencing after my head became cotton candy and ceased functioning. When I heard the shower running, I staggered down the rest of the stairs, into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water. Collapsing into one of the stools positioned at the island in the middle of the kitchen I took a swig of it, attempting to put my muddled thoughts into coherent order. I imagined what Hotaru would say if she was with me right now. Probably something like:

_Here's the deal, Mikan. You are mentally disabled, weird, random, irresponsible, clumsy, too compassionate and caring for your own good, stubborn, and I can go on for a long time, but now is not the time to let your god forsaken hormones take over._

I paused and cocked my head to the side. Is this not the flu but in fact my hormones? I envisaged Hotaru rolling her eyes, sighing, and then doling out some form of physical pain to me before saying, 'you solved another one, Sherlock.' I snickered a little at my childhood friend, feeling a lot less perplexed than before.

I'm just a seventeen year old with raging hormones. I am not ill or... falling in lo- no, I can't even consider the other possibility.

I _can't_.

* * *

After polishing off my glass of water, I was cheerful of the fact that I had no school the next day. Skipping up the stairs two at a time, I strolled into the bedroom I unceremoniously dumped my stuff in. There, I saw the man who was the source of my strange symptoms sitting on my bed with only a pair of plaid pajama pants on. While he was busy drying his hair with a towel, I was curious as to why my eyes were wandering over the outlines of his six pack and chest. Furthermore, this curiosity multiplied in response to my fingers twitching at the sight of his tousled raven black hair.

Hormones... probably.

It was then that I noticed he had goose bumps.

"Dude, put a shirt on! You're going to get sick." My earlier fascination changed into worry. It is the middle of January, and here he is, sitting in a cold room half naked. "Do you have no sense of well being? I'm a moron and even I have enough sense to put on a shirt and sweat pants."

"So you admit that you're a moron."

"Yes! Now will you please put on a shirt?"

He heaved a sigh and made a show of putting on a long t-shirt. "Happy now?"

I nodded with approval. "Ecstatic."

He chuckled to himself before leaning back onto the king-sized bed with an arm propping him up and turned on the plasma television. I frowned at the sight.

"Shouldn't you be going to your bedroom? It's not good etiquette to act like a lazy bum in a _lady's_ bedroom." Nevertheless, I settled down next to him with my knees drawn up to my chest.

He stared at me with an emotionless face before stating, "you haven't explored the whole house yet." I nodded in affirmation, to which he smirked slightly at. "Then you wouldn't know that there is only _one_ bedroom, and it's this room."

"So why is there only _one_ bed?" I asked in the same tone of voice as one would have when inquiring about the weather.

"For us to sleep in, Orange." He answered, rolling his eyes in the process.

I turned to him in a panic. No way was I going to let another human being sleep next to me.

"Nonononono. Not _us_." I motioned between us crazily. "Just me, and me only." I tore my hair out of the confines of my hair band and raked a hand through it- a habit of mine when I get distressed. "Or just you, I don't care, we just can't sleep... _together_." I became steadily more hysterical by the moment.

"Why?" He lazily stretched out on the duvet comforter and gave me a Cheshire smirk. I really wanted to drop kick him to the moon. "Are you worried that I might try something on you?"

"No, it's the exact opposite, actually."

He quirked an eyebrow and said, "how so?"

"I sleep talk... and sleep walk..." I muttered under my breath, but clear enough for Mr. Arrogant to understand.

And because I turn into a fanatical hormonal girl like the viewers of Gossip Girl.

-Natsume-

"So?" I asked bluntly. It was entertaining watching her sweat and fidget like that. She is a really inexplicable girl, I can't seem to figure her out; the moment I come to a conclusion, she refutes it immediately with a single word or action. While she is outspoken and odd, she doesn't love anything, much less believe in it, and she certainly does not have the mindset of a teenage girl. Even though this is refreshing, it was irritating to not clearly know who Orange is. Is she like Koizumi, where she's constantly lying and keeping up false pretenses to be the center of attention?

"But... er... I'm going to disrupt your sleep with my talking and walking." She said awkwardly.

Definitely not capable of pulling off a Koizumi. Better to wait and see if she will reveal her true colors to me.

"Well where are you going to sleep?" I questioned her. It's obvious that she wants the bed, but I'm not going to give it to her that easily. She's too easy to tease.

"I can sleep on the freezing couch downstairs." Orange looked up at me with wide pleading eyes. Up close I noted the faint tinge of pale blue in her gray eyes as well as uneasiness.

What is she uneasy about?

Curious, I decided to pry a bit. "I'm a pretty deep sleeper. Besides, if you slept downstairs it would only result in you going into the kitchen and somehow blowing the whole place up. Do you _really_ want that?"

She bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows after brushing her auburn hair back for the third time. I assumed this was a habit of hers whenever she became anxious. In the harsh lighting, strands of her hair looked golden, and her pale face stood out more than ever before. Her cheeks took on an attractive hint of pink when she saw me looking at her.

Finally.

I was tempted to do a fist pump in the air for _finally_ arousing some of Orange's hormones, but decided not to. After my earlier stunt with being shirtless, I was sure she was not interested in men, but now my hope and competitiveness has been renewed. I decided to push my luck and see if I could get her to sleep in the same bed as me.

"I bet you don't want to sleep in the same bed as me because you're afraid that you'll fall in love with me." I boasted, smirking inwardly at the downwards turn of her lips. "I think you're just lying about the sleep talking and walking. In fact, I think you're going to jump me when I'm sleeping and then blame it on-"

"Fine!" She snapped, getting under the covers of the bed.

Brilliant.

"I'll do it! But don't blame me if something utterly dreadful happens to you!" She warned me while she braided her hair into two pigtails.

"I'm cowering in fear." I replied sarcastically. She merely sniffed with anger.

I followed her lead and got in bed, ignoring the fussy pillow-fluffing and blanket adjusting Orange was making. A waft of oranges and hydrangeas made its way up my nose, causing me to breath in deeply.

"What kind of shampoo do you use?" I asked her quietly after turning off the lights, allowing the moonlight to filter in through the sheer curtains of the window and softly illuminating part of the room. She rolled over to face me, forgetting her initial anger she had towards me. Her face came into the moonlight as I tilted my head to her with my back remaining flat on the bed. She looked at me in the eyes and I noticed that hers had the same lightness as the sky on a winter's day.

"I don't know what it's called." I snorted but she continued with, "it's a special shampoo that Hotaru got me for my birthday. It smells nice, doesn't it?" Even if the room was pitch dark, I could tell that she was smiling fondly.

She doesn't love her best friend my ass.

"When was your birthday?" I whispered, wondering why I was so curious all of a sudden.

"It just passed two weeks ago." Her melodious voice became drowsier with each word as her eyes closed peacefully.

"On New Year's Day." I muttered out loud. She probably doesn't need another present- a girl like her probably received tons of them. Plus, I don't even know what she likes... I heaved a great sigh.

Damn I'm such a wimp.

* * *

Sometime during my sleep, I imagined a warm, soft hand caressing my hair with such delicate care, it reminded me of the good days I spent with Haruko. When was the last time someone has touched me like this? Like a fragile glass figurine; like I was the most precious thing in the whole world. I miss that feeling. But somewhere in my conscience, alarm bells were going off, as I fought to wake myself up when I realized that this wasn't a dream. At long last, I was able to open my eyes to see Orange looming over me with heavy lidded eyes. I remained still while she repeated the same action over and over again.

Who knew that Orange was a creepy person on the inside.

"Your hair is soo soft and silky." She giggled in a very un-Orange-like fashion. I began to find this whole thing extremely amusing.

"Thanks." I frankly said.

"Your skin is soo flawless." She started to stroke my cheek and patted it clumsily. Memories of unpleasant family gatherings flashed through my mind, along with Grandma Tsuki.

"Hn."

"And your lips!" She tried to inhale sharply but ended up choking on her saliva instead. I snickered to myself, satisfied that I could successfully blackmail her with this. "They look as soft as a meat bun!" This time, my snickering stopped abruptly for her face approached mine. I felt the blood drain from my face when I realized what she was going to do.

Shit.

Acting purely on instinct, I shoved myself off of the bed and got entangled in the sheets as a result. With my heart pounding a mile a second, I peeked over the mattress to see her sleeping on her face as sound as before. I rested my back against the bed with a thud and looked up at the ceiling with calculating eyes.

What the hell was that?

* * *

-Mikan-

I sat up in the most wonderful, comfiest, warmest, fluffiest bed in the whole world with a satiated smile. I looked over at my sigh to wake up Natsume, only to see that I was in his spot on the bed and he was sleeping on the floor with a pissed off expression.

Aw, schnikes.

Leaning back as far as I could, I prodded his side with my toes. I prepared myself for a cursing fit after I heard a low groan come from him. Immediately after this, I was met with a pair of angry crimson eyes and a fat pillow.

"Ow! Hey, I told you that we should've slept separately." He advanced upon me like a wildcat and its pray. My immediate response was to sputter and talk quickly while backing up carefully. "But did you listen? _No you did not_, so I don't see what your problem is- DAH!" My face received a second bashing of pillow to which I countered with whacking him in the head with my own pillow. He growled at me menacingly.

"You started it, Mr. I'm-going-to-assault-my-lovely-roommate-for-something-she-warned-your-conceited-self-about."

A mad glint appeared in his eyes. "_Run._"

"Will do!" I blurted out before screaming bloody murder and running down the hallway, choosing to hide in the closet near the end of the hall. Butterflies erupted in my abdomen while my breathing became irregular and rushed. I felt the adrenaline rush through my blood veins and my muscles became taut with fear and elation. My mind worked through the different escape scenarios I could use to get past the PMS-er, as I heard him softly padding down the hallway with purpose. I let go of my breath with relief as he passed me by, only to have it hitch when the door flew open.

Now I truly know what people mean when they say that your life flashes before your eyes prior to one's death.

I gave one humiliating high-pitched squeak before sprinting around him, however I tripped over myself and expectedly fell on my butt. I rubbed my tailbone gingerly before shooting him one of my best death glares.

He cracked a victorious, lopsided grin in return and mussed up my hair for the second time. "The cute little kitten is trying to be threatening." I gnashed my teeth at him with spite. "Oh gosh, I'm going to pee my pants from terror." He said sarcastically as he extended a hand to me.

Jerk. Showoff. Arrogant PMS-er. Conceited playboy.

I got up from my place on the floor with as much dignity as I could muster, paying no heed to his hand. Too bad I ended up walking into a door.

Blushing beet red, I ignored his nasty chortling, and turned the doorknob as if the reason I ran into the door was to open it.

I froze the moment I opened the door. "Hey, Natsume?"

"Mmm?"

"Why is there _another_ bed in the room down the hallway from us?"

He scoffed and answered, "is your mind incapable of thinking? It's a bedroom, Orange."

"But didn't you say that there wasn't another bedroom?" I whirled around to meet him head on.

"I don't recall saying that." He said maintaining our eye contact.

"But you did say that. You said, 'there is only _one_ bedroom'" I mimicked his low insufferable voice. My eyes began to water, forcing me to break our staring contest.

I glared at my feet with unwonted venom, not comprehending why the son of a gun could always get me angry over the stupidest of things.

He-who-must-not-be-named-for-he-is-a-selfish-jerk shrugged carelessly before leaving me behind as frustrated and baffled as the day I found out Santa Claus was fake.

.

.

.

.

.

**A/N:** Longest chapter yet! XD Anyways, I find that the more reviews I get, the more pumped up I get to finish the next chapter (hinthint, REVIEW! :D)

Oh, and whoever reviews also gets a preview to the next chapter!


	5. Loud Enough?

-Natsume-

"Sho arr 'e goin' ta tha supah mah-"

"That's really gross, Orange. Just shut up and finish brushing your teeth. You're spraying toothpaste on me." I said with a disgusted tone, looking at the slender female in the mirror.

After this morning's... incident, she formally apologized to me with an uncharacteristically somber expression, to which I accepted because of my intrigue. I found myself enjoying the faces she made whenever she thought; she read like an open book. It was refreshing to meet a model who held no superficial masks or guarded expressions around me.

Nothing like Haru- No. Put a cap on those memories, Hyuuga.

Orange gave me a toothy grin, foam dripping out of her mouth comically, before spitting it out. I swear, sometimes I need to remind myself that she's a model. Despite thinking this, the corners of my lips lifted upwards a tiny bit, then fell back before she could see.

"Obviously, what I was trying to say is: so are we going to the super market?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry for not understanding, like a normal human being. And yeah, we're going right after-" I checked my watch, which read 10, "-a late breakfast. Is there anything you need?"

She contemplated this, idly gazing around the European-styled bathroom and out the enormous window that spanned a whole wall. "Hum... All I can think of is food. Don't we have a maid that cleans this place up for us? Why do we need cleaning supplies?"

I crooked an eyebrow at her. "For a tiny girl, you think about food a lot. Shouldn't you be on a diet?" I inquired in between my tooth brushing. "As for the maid, yes we probably do have one, but I like keeping my place clean all the time." I leaned over the sink to wash my face, peaking at her with one eye. "Let me guess, Orange. You're the kind of girl who's room is an absolute pigsty."

She blushed in response.

Thought so.

"Mikan." She said loudly in an attempt to change the subject.

"What?" I asked her, plugging in my electric razor and shaving my faint 5 o'clock shadow.

"My name is Mikan."

I nodded as exaggeratedly as I could without cutting myself. "I know your name is Mikan." I enunciated slowly with a teasing grin

She gave me a blank look over her face towel, already done with cleaning her teeth. "You sound like my grandpa when he's drugged. And I was merely telling you that you can call me by my first name."

"Hysterical." I remarked dryly. Then wondered why she didn't get angry with me, which branched off to another thought. Before, Orange didn't get mad when I ordered her to stop overreacting during the photo shoot, yet last night she got irritated with me... a lot.

"Hey." I finished shaving.

"Wuddup." She responded in, what I can only assume, her 'gangster' voice.

Damn. We need to have a Come to Jesus moment. Soon.

Ignoring her obnoxious moment, I voiced my slightly confused thoughts out loud.

In reply, she provided me with a carefree laugh and a sunny smile, which made my heart twitch funnily. She explained, "I never get angry with things that make sense. Like, back then when I was having a breathing fit, it was only rational to get my breathing under control. Common sense is what made me listen to you. But last night," she shot me a huffy 'I-told-you-so' look, "I clearly tried to stop us from sleeping in the same bed because I knew what would happen. But would you listen? No. You just had to be a smart aleck about it-"

I unceremoniously interrupted her. "Smart aleck? You're... what? 16? Not 86, Orange."

She protested loudly at being cut off, whining incessantly in a high voice, and finally ended up giggling at her ridiculousness. "So?

"So." I reiterated like the smartass I am.

"Call me Mikan. Not 'Orange.'" She released her braided pigtails and finger brushed her long, coffee brown hair briskly.

"I believe all you said was, 'Mikan.'" I retorted.

She shrugged in response. "Details, details. Who needs 'em?" Her dark gray eyes sparkled merrily at our peculiar conversation as she headed for the bathroom door.

"Wait." I stepped into the doorway quickly- causing her to ram into my chest, slip on the tiled floor, and fall onto her back; somehow scattering everything on the marbled counter to all four corners of the grand bathroom. I stood stock still in my place with an awed expression.

This girl is as clumsy with her body as she is with her emotions.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Orange chanted from the ground with a pained expression. "Knew that was going to happen the moment I saw the floor... Tiles of all things, honestly..."

"I'm impressed. I knew you were a klutz, but..." I scanned the place, somehow spotting my toothbrush on the other end of the room. "This is a bit extreme."

"It's a talent." She groaned, rubbing her elbow that was rapidly becoming black and blue.

I offered her my hand, smiling inwardly at this familiar situation. Except this time, Orange took it, instead of standing up on her own. I applauded myself; for that was one more step to becoming closer to her.

"You're kind of an idiot." I informed her with a grave tone.

"And you're kind of a selfish jerk."

I conceded. "But at least I'm a hot one."

She slapped my shoulder playfully, to which I rubbed it with a wounded expression.

"You know what? I think someone's not going to get her Who-a-lon today." I announced, inching out the door. I nearly burst out laughing when her eyes narrowed at me menacingly.

"It's Howalon, and, as the almighty bathroom light as my witness, I will... Do something horrible if you dare, Hyuuga Natsume."

And just like that, I hurtled down to the kitchen cabinets, with her right by my heels, snatching up the large bag smugly. I waved it in front of her face, sniggering at the way her face oozed yearning. A dot of drool made itself known at the corner of her pink lips.

"Now, if you want this Hoot-a-lot stuff, _Mikan_, you must agree to play a game with me."

She glared at me with a mixture of venom and caution. An expression I have fondly dubbed as 'the-kitty-is-trying-to-be-intimidating' face.

"What's the game?"

"Agree to it first, or else your Howl-a-long will go flying into a deadly contraption: my stomach."

Orange gasped with indignation and horror at this, giving her consent to play my game vigorously. I leered evilly at her when I handed over the bag.

"And it's called HOWALON. HOW-A-LON, you... you... you mangy scoundrel." She brandished a fluff puff at my face, before popping it in her mouth contently.

Better hang onto that happiness, Orange. Better hang on.

* * *

-Mikan-

I kicked myself. Both mentally and literally, of course.

Mentally, because I agreed to play Natsume's game and allowed my stupid tummy to get the best of me, and literally, because that's what happens when I sit in a shaky train with my legs crossed. I untangled them, wincing slightly from my previously wounded shin, and planted my Toms-clad feet on the ground. Don't want to fall out of my seat... Again.

So here's the throwdown: I must make as many anime and manga references as I can during our whole grocery shopping extravaganza, and he has to guess what series it comes from. For every reference I make, I can ask him a question, and for every reference he guesses correctly, he gets to do the same.

Sounds easy as apple pie, right?

Sure! Besides the fact that I have to say these references as loud as I can for everyone to hear. What an awesome way to embarrass myself.

Excellent. Dandy. Whoopee-freaking-do. Take your pick from my collection of sarcastic comments because I have a feeling that I'll be using more of them.

I peered over at the black-eyed model next to me, who concealed his pretty maraschino cherry eyes with colored contacts. Despite his casual outfit, a snug long shirt and distressed jeans, Natsume still managed to capture the attention of every single female on the train with his chiseled features. So much for Natsume's idea of traveling incognito. That's okay though. Never liked cars that much anyway.

I surveyed the train some more, dread overcoming me the moment an advertisement for Nodame Cantabile started playing on the mini displays around me. I thought about playing stupid. I mean, how in the world would he know that Nodame was a favorite series of mine? But a single prod from Natsume ruined that idea.

His ability to read me is uncanny. Maybe he's like the Japanese version of... What was that vampire's name again? Edmond Callin? Edward Elric? I could just hear Hotaru snorting with contempt and say...

Another sharp prod from the insistent man caused my heart to speed up.

"M-Mugya...?" I muttered fearfully. I can just feel the heat rise up to my cheeks.

"Louder." Natsume coughed subtly with an evil glint in his eye.

Sweat pricked the palms of my hands while my mouth dried up completely. My blood swept through my veins as fast as Hotaru spotting spicy crab roe. I felt the word rising up my throat, and... Oh goodness, I'm going to do it-

"MUGYA."

* * *

Dang nabbit.

Have I mentioned how much I hate my compulsive need to stick to promises?

Natsume continued to hoot uproariously as we got off the train compartment. I bowed apologetically to the passengers' shocked faces. Except for the one son of a biscuit who had the galls to snicker at me. I sniffed at him with equal condescension and revoked my apology to him. Mentally, of course.

Hah. Take that, you.

"Th- that was brilliant. I-" He wiped the corners of his eyes, chuckling so hard that he was tearing up. "I have never, _ever_ heard of a more realistic impression of Nodame, until now. Congratulations, Orange."

"Thanks. At least I made one person happy. I didn't like those passengers, anyway. They all were too engrossed with their little machines... and they looked fishy too." Anger forgotten, I chuckled along; his adorable smile infecting me. When our laughter subsided, which took about another minute, we headed for the escalator that led us up to a bustling plaza.

"So," I said, observing the enormous shopping mall that lay to our left and the large super market which laid to our right. "Do I get to ask the question first, or do you?" I took a step towards my right, but was buffeted by a mob of tall high school boys.

Of course this would happen to me. My life is awesome. Ugh. They stink of body odor and... what was that? Dango? My mouth watered at the smell until a hand shot out of nowhere and pulled me out of the mess.

I faintly registered Natsume's exasperated voice, but all I could think of was the dango. Mmm... Soft, chewy, plush dango glazed with soy sauce...

"Seriously, Orange? We ate breakfast 15 minutes ago, and you want food already?"

Oh boy. Did I just say that out loud?

He tossed me a smirk. "Yes, you just did. Do you realize that you're thinking out loud?"

And then I received the brightest epiphany ever; one that beats Newton's gravity epiphany by a light year, and Zuckerberg's Facebook discovery by a mile. I. Am. A. Genius.

"Is that a question?" I demanded, crossing my fingers behind my back.

As expected, he gave his usual snobbish scoff. "What else would it be. A declaration?"

I gave into a bout of insane, maniacal laughter. "Hohoho! You just used up your question for the game, Sucker!" I did my mini victory jig in front of the super market, attracting the stares of all the passerbys.

Obviously embarrassed to be seen with me, Natsume headed into the store without a backward glance. He probably was also ashamed of falling for such a trick... Even though I lost my question, too.

Meh, who cares? Serves him right! No one messes with Sakura Mikan.

I hurried inside after I calmed down with a haughty look on my face. I glanced around, my arrogance dissolving into worry. This place was _huge_. And I mean the super mart in Pokémon, huge... Did I just make another anime reference? Looking around, I tried to catch a glimpse of Natsume, then realizing that an unusually fat crowd of women were giggling behind their hands at someone. Intuitively, I strode over to the 'someone,' and upon closer inspection, he was the man I was looking for.

Natsume, who casually leaned against the wall opposite from the door, looked completely at ease in his surroundings. I noticed that Natsume paid no heed to the women's gaping. Instead, he nonchalantly examined the grocery store with a bored expression. I decided to slyly sneak my reference in now while he was off guard.

Skipping up to him, I commented, "jeez. This place is ginormous. I wonder if they sell any super repels or escape ropes 'cause it looks like you need one."

The corners of his lips twitched upward before vanishing. Funny. For some reason, there was an aching in my chest. As if I was disappointed that he didn't smile. My mind quaked in fear when it envisioned a fearsome Hotaru-dragon rearing it's head at this thought.

"Really. A Pokémon reference."

Curses. He caught it and spoke in sentences.

It was then that I realized the gorgeous women who previously surrounded Natsume, were now dispersing. Whilst doing this, they shot me dirty looks. I stared down at my homey outfit: rolled up jeans, a floral blouse, and a forest green cardigan. Then proceeded to compare myself to one of the striking women: short frilly skirt, a sheer tank top, and a blazer.

Wasn't she freezing? I mean, sure the outfit looked very becoming on her, and her shirt reminded me of tamagoyaki. But it is the middle of winter... My grandpa's voice piped up in the back of my brain, 'always remember, Mikan, to draw a line between looking good and foolishness.'

Thanks, Grandpa. You must be rolling in your grave after seeing this chick.

A tanned hand snapped me out of my musings. "Oi. Oi, Orange!"

"Uh... Huh? WhadImiss?" I looked around and finally comprehended the fact that we were standing in the cleaning supplies floor already.

Natsume gave me a knowledgeable look. "You were daydreaming again. And I believe that was a question." He teased, grasping a cart.

I gasped. "Nuh uh. That doesn't count. That was a... rhetorical question."

He simply rolled his eyes at me, then rolled off down an aisle.

I wonder if it hurts doing that with contacts. I knew they weren't prescribed, but still...

"I have my question."

I crashed headfirst into his back. "D'oh. Already?"

"If you could have any power you wanted, what would it be?" He picked a couple of products off the shelves and tossed them into the cart.

"I'd ask whoever is giving me these supernatural powers to grant me the power of Suzaku." And then I added as an afterthought, "being around studly men must have its benefits. Like free food."

Natsume tapped me on the head exasperatedly. "Don't answer me half-assedly. With a Fushigi Yuugi reference of all things, too."

I smiled cheekily up at him. "Totally worth it, though. But how do you know Fushigi Yuugi?"

"What power, Orange?" He intoned, getting used to my tangents. He tapped his chin thoughtfully at a whole rack of stainless steel polishers.

I pondered upon his question, sifting through the pros and cons of each ability that came to mind, before deciding. "Nullification."

Natsume slightly tilted his mouth into a crooked grin.

My heart skipped a beat, during which Hotaru the Angry Dragon crooked an eyebrow dangerously. Bah- stupid hormones.

"Okay, my turn!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Here we go." He said under his breath.

I ignored his snide remark. "What... Ah- what is your favorite food? And color?"

"Hamburgers. Red." He responded without hesitation. "Is that all you got, Orange?" The pompous male taunted.

Why does his voice have to sound so nice all the time? He's mocking me, for crying out loud, and it still has a lovely tone to it! So unfair.

"If your life could be represented by chess, who would be the other king; your queen; bishop; rook; and knight?"

I was startled by his unique inquiry, carefully choosing my mates. I was also surprised to realize that I was starting to enjoy the game very much. But I would never tell him that. Natsume's ego might destroy this building to smithereens if I did.

"Let's see- my other king would be Hotaru, because she's my opposite and equal... We both hold each other in the highest respect, but our personalities are completely different." I laughed at the sincerity of this statement. "My queen is my grandpa, because he's always worrying about me like a chicken with her chick. My bishop would be my brother, Tsubasa, who is always giving me advice about everything. My rook would be my neighbor, Anna, who never fails to keep me at ease. As for my knight..." My dark gray eyes trailed towards Natsume's concealed ones. "It would be you." I stated.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Me."

"Because I have a feeling that you'll be saving me in the future."

* * *

-Natsume-

And with Orange's statement ricocheting around in my mind, we made our way to the other end of the floor, where brooms, vacuums, aprons, etc. were homed. I led us to a stand, searching for some suitable dishwashing gloves.

I turned around just in time to witness Orange snapping her currently gloved fingers at flammable objects with a laughable charismatic smirk on her face.

"Fullmetal Alchemist. I assume that you're buying those gloves since you opened the package." I informed her wryly.

She turned to me with a crazy look in her eyes. "Dude, I'm totally buying these gloves! I totally feel like the colonel in these!"

I smiled a tinge at her comment- realizing that being around this girl has made me smile more than when I was with Haruko. "What are you fears?"

"You mean, besides having my soul turn into feathers and spread across different dimensions?" I grinned at her Tsubasa allusion, nodding my approval. "I would say copper coins."

I gave her a perplexed look. "Why copper coins? And yes, that is my next question."

She scrunched her button nose in distaste. "Because they are absolutely covered in germs and..." Orange gagged, her face turning pale. "They smell like blood." She changed the subject hastily, "what are you fears? And what sport are you partial to?"

Dismissing her use of the word, 'partial,' I answered, "spiders and the hospital. And I like soccer."

"Soccer? Wow, I'm kinda envious." She stated with a wistful look. "All those things I could do if I had that kind of coordination..."

"Yeah, you'd probably end up kicking the ball into your goal after taking out your teammates accidentally." Spotting an incoming punch, I leapt out of the way with a grin. As a result, she landed on her butt with a humiliated blush. "Nice."

We took to the escalators next, journeying to the actual grocery store. Orange rocked back and forth with an anticipatory gleam in her eye. After we disembarked, she speedily led the way to the junk food section with me rolling my eyes half-heartedly.

I was pleased to know that the more I got to know Orange, the more complex she turned out to be; but for how long she could entertain me, even I didn't know. Definitely not for a whole year, though.

I spotted Orange halting abruptly in front of the wrong aisle, walking up to her with an inquiring expression. I followed her eyes and found myself looking at pet food.

"No. Oh hell no. We are _not_ getting a pet-"

"Not even an orange kitty? Or a black dog? How about a white rat, wouldn't it be cute?"

I shook my head vehemently. I need no more burdens in my life.

"Oh please? I would love a yellow rabbit and name it Momiji. And a flamboyant silver snake. Oooo, a small monkey would be adorable, too-"

Wait a minute... Could she be...?

A small crowd of little kids were gathering around the blabbering girl with open mouths and awed faces; wishing that their parents would let them buy a pet.

"I've always wanted a seahorse... No, a horse named Rin... Definitely not a rooster, because they're pretty flaky..."

Without a doubt in my mind, and confirmed by Orange's expanding smile, I cottoned onto her seemingly random tangent.

"I'm sorry, but you're speaking too quietly. Could you speak a little louder?"

She fumed silently at my request, causing me to finally relent.

"Fruits Basket."

"Ding, ding, ding! You got it, Natsume!" She clapped.

At last, I gave her a genuine smile, to which she returned with equal earnestness until a reedy voice distracted us.

I spun around and was blinded by all too familiar lights, coming to the conclusion that my disguise didn't work as well as I hoped, and that the reporters must have heard Orange call my name.

Damn.

"Hyuuga-san, Hyuuga-san!" One of the reporters called to me. I sighed with annoyance as he began to fire questions.

"Natsume... you were this popular?" Orange asked me with a dubious expression.

"Of course _you_ wouldn't know. You've lived under a rock your whole damn life."

She shot me one of those 'I'm gonna kill you' looks.

I continued to grin victoriously at her, which she huffed with vexation. She faced away from me in vexation.

"Hyuuga-san, is this your new girlfriend?" The reporter's camera occupied Orange with its flash, when I thought of a new way to rile her up.

"She is." I retorted, grabbing her slender hand in mine and sprinting away.

"Na-graaah!"

A hand slipped out of my grasp as I turned around, instinctively catching the body that hurdled towards the ground. Thinking quickly, I took a sharp left, ending up in the produce section. "Quick, hide here," I speedily ushered her into a small alcove by the apples, and then I flew off.

"Hyuuga-san! Hyuuga-san, what do you mean by that?"

"Is she a new love conquest of yours?"

"Have you gotten over Haruko-san, then?"

I hurtled around as many corners as I could, effectively ditching them, and even ran up a flight of stairs as a precaution. Panting lightly from the exertion, I slid down to the floor of the fire escape.

Flashes of a smiling blond whipped in front of my closed eyes. Memories of the past that I've tried so hard to keep under a tight lid came flooding out with vengeance; memories of the women who pretended to be someone she was not; memories of her being carted to the hospital because of me; the last, vivid memory of Haruko slapping me venomously and hissing, "You-"

"Attention shoppers!"

I flinched from the amplified sound, glaring at the loudspeaker which sat near me.

"Please be on the lookout for a missing child. He is 6'2'' and has black hair and eyes. He is currently wearing a long-sleeved, white t-shirt and ripped jeans. His mother, Ms. Orange, is waiting for him at reception on the first floor. I repeat-"

A new voice came onto the PA.

"Loud enough for you, Punk?"

* * *

**A/N:** Review to keep this story alive!

... And for a preview!


	6. Mentally, of course

-Mikan-

"I'm sorry!"

I ignored him and continued my angry fast paced march away from him, heading down to the train station.

"I said I'm sorry!"

"Cut the cheese." I told him in a deadly voice, narrowing my eyes at his apologetic face. I kept up my glare, trying to look as threatening as possible by jutting at my lower jaw and hip.

My intimidation tactics were working perfectly well... Until he broke character and burst out laughing while pointing at my face, leaving me red-faced and steaming. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

"Hey, Nat-Nat!" I barked as loud as I could, effectively making him choke on his words. "At least I didn't make my _girlfriend_ wait by the front desk for two whole hours."

Hah. That'll teach him good. I mean, well? Eh what's the difference.

"Again, I'm sorry for ditching you back there at the grocery store. What did you want me to do? Let the paparazzi find out about you and then find out about our secret photo shoot with Sumire? And I had to double back to get our groceries, Orange."

I switched tactics, moving from anger mode to 'sullen-teenage' mode.

Turning around, I resumed my huffy walk down the escalators. Natsume just didn't understand; I wasn't angry at him for ditching me, rather I was disappointed with his angry reaction to my brilliant Ouran High School Host Club reference.

His voice called out to me. "What can I do to make things better?"

I paused. Then noted that the sky was transforming into the same color as raw salmon and grape candy, which caused my stomach to rumble. I didn't realize how fast time passed when I was with Natsume.

Said person's silhouette came into view as he stood at the base of the escalators; the train station was deserted save for a few stragglers. His broad shoulders stood out like a piece of steak placed on a bed of salad.

I, unwillingly might I add, landed in front of Natsume. His usually carefree face was blank as he looked down at me. Damn him for being a foot taller than me.

Instinctively my hand flew up to my mouth, the pupils of my gray eyes dilating with fear. If my parents heard that I would've gotten a good whooping. I just _swore..._ again!

I could just hear Hotaru the Scary Dragon roaring in the back of my mind.

"Orange?" Natsume chuckled, his smirk returning full force.

I buried my face into my hands and peeked at him in between my fingers. Smug hooligan.

"So are we good now?" He leaned in a bit to look at my eyes squarely.

I sighed, before consenting. "Yeah, we're chill. But-" My hands slid down while I faced him fully with a cheery smile, "only if you treat me to ramen."

Natsume nonchalantly rested his forehead against mine, making me feel even shorter. That jerk! I stared defiantly into his wine-colored eyes. As if I was going to stand down from his bullying.

"Ramen, or else you're going to wake up tomorrow with a very bad haircut." A predatory smile split my face in two. Mikan: 1, Natsume: 0.

He straightened up suddenly, making me fall over onto the dirty ground with the grace of a twig. Natsume laughed rudely before walking away, leaving me behind with an outraged face.

Why that little-

* * *

I woke up to the quiet buzzing of my alarm. Sitting up in bed, I grabbed it from my nightstand and turned it off, glad that I moved to a separate bedroom from Natsume. I went about my morning routine as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his restful sleep. But, knowing me, I accidentally dropped my fake glasses onto the sensitive part of my toe; eliciting a loud exclamation (mind you, I didn't swear. Swearing is bad, Kidlets!) of pain. I held my breath, then released it upon hearing his soft, even snores. I looked at my reflection in the full length mirror: large, Korean-styled glasses hid my lackluster cheekbones and eyes, while my annoyingly messy hair was done into a fishtail braid. Concealer hid my hideous eye bags and pimples, but that was the only makeup I had the patience to put on.

I made sure not to stand out when I was at school. It was nice being able to blend in with the crowd. I wasn't hated for being beautiful or sexy, and I wasn't derided as one of the school's ugliest. I made sure not to stand out in school academically or socially, but I did have acquaintances who were successful in both fields.

Sakura Mikan, in the eyes of my peers, was your average high school girl who missed a lot of days at school because of her grandfather's poor constitution.

Her cousin, on the other hand, was a whole other story, which leads me to explaining how my day at school went:

I received scornful looks; envious faces dripping with disdain; eyes betraying their owner's diabolically clever plans to prank me. These were what greeted me on Monday morning.

It was dead silent when I entered homeroom. You know, the kind of silence that makes you want to break out in hives and run away, screaming like a banshee.

"Er... Cat got your tongue?" I chuckled nervously, my beady eyes darting around the room to find my allies.

I found none.

Out of nowhere, someone chucked an object at me with an, "explain yourself." The object, as it turned out, was a tabloid with a candid picture of Natsume and me on the front page. I squinted at the picture, which showed Natsume leaning towards me. Although I failed to recall the moment when Natsume looked like he was about to kiss me, I was slightly relieved to see that the paparazzi never caught my face.

What a dreadful turn of events.

My eyes, then, floated to the bottom of the page, spotting the caption. Guess what it said?

_Sorry ladies, but Hyuuga Natsume just got himself a new girlfriend. Read more to find out!_

"Wow. They're pretty good at their job. Props."

"What did you say?" A beautiful girl spoke up. Her dyed hair was close to the color of ashy oak.

"I mean," my head was racing as I fought to keep my identity as a model a secret. After all, Sakura Mikan is known to be an average girl with average looks and average grades. But rather than worrying about this now, I knew instinctively that protecting Natsume's image was top priority. But my mind was as empty as a bowl of natto placed in front of my Grandpa; the only thing that struck me as productive was to stand in the middle of my classroom twiddling my fingers. Mentally. "I... durr... did you know that fear causes your body temperature to rise?"

"Whatever. But you better tell _her_ that she better back the hell off of our man, or else her pathetic weirdo of a cousin will get the heat."

I snorted. Mentally again, of course. I remembered the day when my classmates somehow found out that I was a model, but I quickly squelched that idea by saying that it was my 'cousin' who was the model, not me.

Back in real time, I put on a magnificent quivery, 'okay,' and just like that the whole fiasco ended.

Man. That should be a spell in Harry Potter, or something. You know, if those characters just played nice and picked their fights wisely, Harry wouldn't be as... tussed up. And yes, I did just make up the word 'tussed.' It's like the mixture of messed up, screwed up, and- well, you get my drift.

Homeroom passed by relatively quickly, which was unfortunate since my next class was gym. When the bell rung, signaling the end of homeroom and the beginning of break, I stood up and mechanically joined the small circle of girls who I chose to associate myself with. Most of them were closet Otakus.

"Hey Mikan." Nonoko said timidly. She pushed her spectacles up her nose nervously as she looked around the room, no doubt keeping an eye out on the girls who threatened me earlier.

"Hi Nonoko. How are you?" I asked courteously, just like how my momma rose me up to be.

She blinked her amber eyes before averting them with an intense blush gracing her cheeks. Nonoko scuttled away without another word, leaving me at the outskirts of the group of girls.

Did my breath stink that much? I only ate a bagful of durian cookies for breakfast...

A finger tapped my shoulder. I turned around to see Nogi Ruka- all star baseball player of our school, and consequently the most sought after boy at Alice High. It also helped that he was half French. But it didn't help that he was in my class.

This was also the first time he's ever approached me, I wonder why he chose today of all days to talk to me.

"Guh." I vomited intelligently, not in the least surprised at the amount of glares I was getting. It was nearly as bad as yesterday when I was with Natsume-

Focus, Mikan.

A megawatt smile blinded me; Nogi's pearly whites flashed at me as obnoxiously as someone showing me their secret stash of pornography (which has never happened before, I assure you.).

"I just wanted to ask you if the rumors are true." He casually sat at the edge of a girl's desk. "Is your cousin really dating Natsume?" The girl swooned comically.

"No, of course not." I replied immediately. The thought of Natsume being able to stop his petty playboy ways was preposterous.

Did I just make an awesome alliteration?

Good job, Sakura. I patted myself on the back. Mentally, obviously.

"Did you just pat yourself on the back?" Nogi asked incredulously.

Ruh roh.

"Mmphf." I shrugged unflappably, before slinking out the door faster than you can say "mmphf."

Five face plants and 10 embarrassing trips later found me jogging sluggishly around the track for gym. It was right after I 'epiphanied'- to receive an epiphany- and realized that the reason why I didn't find my homework torn to pieces or my gym clothes slandered in bad words was because the popular girls threatened everybody to stay away from me. Especially ever since the Nogi Incident.

Not that I minded the isolation so much. I quite liked it, actually. It made me feel very Zen and smart. Plus, I could daydream about food all I want without garnering strange looks.

Not that I wasn't getting strange looks thrown at me, because I was no longer "Sakura Mikan, who?" but rather, "Oh, Sakura _Mikan_." Yeah, I heard the whispers and the insults and the rude comments about my "cousin," who was actually me, but I was never one for irrational thinking.

Not that I'm pretentious or anything of the sort, but I knew better than to pick fights I knew I wouldn't be able to talk myself out of. Or physical fights for that matter.

Not that I'm worried for myself, but rather for my opponent/opponents. My clumsiness does lend itself to be a bit destructive and violent at times.

Not that-

"Gack." I squeaked before the gravelly track ran into my face.

Really! It literally ran into my face. I didn't trip and fall or anything like that...

After a few exasperated sighs and mean snickers, a tense silence fell over my peers, which I didn't notice because I was too mortified to look up. But if I did, my face would've reddened to the shade of rhubarb juice...

For I would've seen Nogi.

His arms slid around my bruised knees and sore back as I uttered another humiliating sound. His scent wafted over me while he jogged to the school nurse; Nogi's cerulean eyes kept glancing down to the top part of my face with worry tingeing their depths. He smelt of cinnamon and metal... like coins-

The color drained out of my face as I shakily touched my forehead. I slowly drew my tapered fingers away from me, registering the brilliant red which ornamented them.

"Put me down." I commanded in a whispery, yet firm voice.

Nogi complied, setting me gently onto the ground like a fragile glass object.

I promptly turned away from his perplexed features and puked my brains out. The coppery coin-y stench of blood swirled around my senses, causing me to gag some more and expel the rest of my digested durian cookies onto cement.

Stupid cuprolaminophobia.

For those who don't know, it is the official name for the fear of coins.

A callused hand took off my glasses, since they were getting wet from my watering eyes, and soothingly rubbed small circles onto my back. When I was finished, the nurse had already arrived and was in the process of taping a small cotton ball onto my bleeding wound. My palms were slick with sweat, as was my top lip, and I was trembling like a drug addict experiencing withdrawal. I made the mistake of inhaling deeply, because the next thing I knew, my senses were sent reeling with the smell of coins and I passed out.

In real life, unfortunately.

* * *

-Natsume-

I woke up to the noisy racket of my alarm. Rolling over in bed, I slammed it into the carpeted ground with an irritated grunt. Following this, another alarm went off in the other bedroom, which caused me to sit up.

Perfect.

I was quickly finding myself obsessed with Annoying Orange Time- a term I have fondly dubbed my pranks as. No doubt she was waking up and thinking how glad she was to move into a separate bedroom from me. A smirk stretched across my face while I tossed on a t-shirt. I opened the door a crack to see what she was doing, but did a double take.

Since when did Orange wear glasses and why was her skirt so short?

I narrowed my eyes at the latter part. Her forest green skirt ended above her knee, and even though she was wearing high socks, an unreasonable amount of pale skin was exposed-

My blank expression turned into an amused one when she accidentally dropped her huge glasses onto the sensitive part of her toe. Orange made a noise that was a cross between a yelp and a whimper when this happened while I chuckled under my breath. She then proceeded to stand still with a head cocked to the side, as if she was listening for something. I cottoned on to what she was listening for, and hastily made snoring noises.

I mean, I didn't want her to find me watching her like a stalker, because I wasn't one.

Since when did I care so much about what she thought, anyway? And why did it piss me off so much to see her skirt hiked up? I've seen shorter shorts before and they didn't bother me.

Orange promptly checked her watch and flew down the stairs without a backward glance. But if she did, no doubt she would've seen my bemused face and asked a flurry of questions. I roughly scratched the back of my head, wondering why she went to school dressed like someone she wasn't: the glasses, for one, only served to downplay her beauty, yet she braided her hair in a way that accentuated her face shape nicely and she made her skirt shorter.

And then I realized that she was aiming to look average.

She looked like your typical high school girl... And for some reason it made me frustrated with her. This whole time I was under the impression that she didn't care what her peers thought of her, yet here she was- brainlessly conforming to society so that she could blend in with the crowd. I gritted my teeth.

Time for our 'Come to Jesus' moment.

* * *

"Sup." Koko greeted from his perch by the window. He took a sip from his mug before setting it down with an excited gleam in his eye.

I merely rose an eyebrow at him. Past experiences have taught me to not talk to Koko when he looked like an insane maniac. I slunk over to the couch that sat in the center of his condo as the overly passionate photographer leapt over to me with a manila folder.

"Openopenopenopenopenopen-"

I shook my head in mock aggravation, then took out the contents of the folder; said contents turned out to be the photos from our first photo shoot. I flipped through them, my earlier frustration with Orange decreasing with each photo. She may not have seemed like a model during the shoot, but these photos were concrete evidence of her abilities.

In each picture Orange was in, she managed to exude an innocence and brightness that immediately drew in my eyes. But the ones that really caught my attention were the later ones, where she was dressed as a nerd. Orange, displaying the tact of a professional, made a point of displaying Sumire's clothes, and at the same time kept to her character. Her expressions also varied between photos, causing me to forget about her inability to convey love. A feat which impressed me to no end.

But despite my approval, my frustration returned when I saw her outfit. It reminded me of this morning and of my realization that maybe she wasn't as unique or different as I thought she was.

Koko, taking note of my souring mood, hurriedly flung a tabloid at my face.

With a disgruntled grumble I threw it back to him. "What the hell man?"

This time, Koko hurled the rolled up magazine, but I caught it with ease now that I wasn't immersed in my thoughts.

"Making the moves already?" He asked cryptically, giggling afterwards at his 'clever' comment.

I unfurled it, and was unsurprised to find Orange and me on the cover. Leave it to the paparazzi to spin something innocent into something else.

Yuu was going to throw a hissy fit.

"What is she? Like 10 years younger than you?"

"Try half that, genius." I said dryly.

"Keeping track, are ya?" Koko winked. Thankfully the maniacal glint in his eye was gone now.

I flipped him the bird before throwing the tabloid into the trash... where it belongs.

"So have you decided which photos to use?" I asked, swiftly switching to a more comfortable topic.

The blond nodded his head in assent. "Yeah. Sumire and I decided to go with the 'nerd meets playboy' motif. It seems to work the best for both of you."

"So we don't need to do the January shoot over again?"

"Looking forward to seeing you next month."

I got up from my seat and headed to his kitchen for a cup of coffee until Koko continued saying, "it's going to be about Valentine's Day. Your favorite holiday, Lover Boy." He waggled his eyebrows creepily.

Fortunately for him, my phone chose to ring at that moment.

"Yeah." I turned away from my idiotic friend, knowing that I was very close to punching him in the face.

"Mikan's hurt." A familiar monotonous voice came on the line.

"Okay...?" I said, pinpointing the caller to be Hotaru, Orange's manager. My fingers itched to grab my car keys but I stopped myself.

"She tripped and fell-"

I snorted, not shocked by this tidbit.

"-fainted because of the blood coming from her forehead. I'm assuming you know about her phobia of coins and how she relates the smell of blood to them?"

"Wait, she fainted?" I could restrain my hand no longer, swiftly exiting Koko's flat and leaving said man behind. "Where is she? And why aren't you picking her up?" I impatiently waited for the elevator, but opted to use the stairs instead.

"At Alice High. The school nurse called me but I'm currently in Shinjuku but there's massive traffic. Some moron smashed his car into the intersection and caused a four car accident."

I was now in the parking garage, sprinting over to my sports car and getting in. "Why don't you take the JR then, Smartass?"

I heard a click and the line went dead.

Sliding out of the deserted garage, I drove with the limitations of a drunk man (meaning I went well over the speed limit and ran a couple of red lights), and cut down the thirty minute drive to ten minutes. I burst through the front doors, unaware of how haggard I looked, and asked the front office lady where the nurse was. She gaped for a good minute before I barked my question at her a second time with annoyance. The lady, who must've been at least twice my age, mutely pointed to her right and I took off running.

I spied the 'Clinic' sign and wrenched the sliding door open. "Orange-"

And instead of seeing an auburn-haired girl, I saw a stocky blond male pinning an unconscious Orange to the hospital bed.

* * *

**A/N:** You know the drill. And JR is the name of the train in Japan. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed or will review!


	7. Mr Testosterone and Hotaru the Dragon

-Natsume-

My arm reflexively threw my car keys at Blondie's face. My eyes did nothing but see red hot rage. My mouth twisted into a snarl while a grunt erupted from the back of my throat.

Some would say that I was acting a bit possessive. Others would disagree and say that I was reacting appropriately to the situation.

I believe my mind took the second side.

"Ow!" A stream of curses erupted from the blonde's fugly face, who now had a bloody forehead.

The testosterone in me roared with approval.

"Jesus. What gives, man?"

Refusing to waste a single word on the bastard, I ripped him away from her and examined Mikan carefully, fearing the worst. My initial examination brought relief; he hadn't tried anything on her. But when I peered in closer to her face, I noticed the faint worry lines around her eyebrows and the taut muscles around her jaw. I also noticed that her breathing was uneven and that she was lightly sweating.

I snaked my arms around her, unsurprised at the amount of heat Mikan exuded. "You." I barked at the mother f- ather. Mikan's voice at the back of my mind nodded with delight at my avoidance of a cuss word. Under normal circumstances I would've groaned at the effect Mikan had on me, but I continued speaking instead. "I'm taking her. Tell the nurse that she should be fired for leaving trash with a patient."

On that note, I left a very frightened and shocked boy behind.

I exited the building and stuffed us into the car. The red that once filled my vision was ebbing away, finally. I raced towards the nearest hospital, glancing every now and then at the unconscious girl next to me. I had wrapped her in my spare trench coat (never again will I ever curse _long_, protective coats), despite her rising temperature, and it was disturbing how much I enjoyed seeing Mikan in my clothing.

It was also disturbing to know that the testosterone in me was developing a voice of its own; Mr. Testosterone was currently hollering at me to hold Mikan's hand... Despite both of my hands being occupied by the wheel and stick shift.

I groaned with consternation, consenting to Mr. Testosterone's annoying reedy voice by swiftly grabbing Mikan's pale hand and trapping it between my hand and the stick shift. I was embarrassed to discover how sweaty my palms were getting as we got closer to our destination. Trying hard not to puke at the stale, hospital air which invaded my imagination, I glanced over at Mikan and saw that the bandage which protected her wound was seeping with blood.

It was then when I realized that the frail girl next to me had stopped breathing.

The curses began flowing- Mikan's hatred for swear words be damned- as I drove impossibly faster. The moment my sports car skidded in front of the emergency room, the nurses unloaded Mikan while I frantically fumbled with my seat belt. My legs felt akin to soggy udon noodles as I stumbled after the white-clad crowd. I saw them hurry into the emergency room, the door was closing, and with one last pump of my legs, they swung shut as I slammed into them.

I let out a stream of colorful words like an adolescent boy learning them for the first time. I punched the door out of fear and frustration for caring too much for a girl I've only know for three days. This relationship was getting a little too real for comfort, I realized belatedly.

It was time to go. And fast, Mr. Testosterone announced.

I envisioned my imaginary friend taking out his suitcase and tossing in his clothes, and just as I was about to enroll myself into the nearest asylum, my cell phone went off. I was beginning to get a bit frightened with my phone's uncanny ability to ring at convenient times. Looking down at the blinking screen, a burning sense of guilt flickered in the pit of my stomach as I realized that the day she would receive her birthday present would be the last day she and I were to see each other.

A memory flashed in front of my eyes; it was from earlier that morning when I stopped by the pet store on my way to Koko's. It felt like months since I entered that store and asked for a black dog to be delivered to our- I mean Orange's- house. Unknowingly, a soft smile lifted the corners of my lips, but dropped down as I was harshly brought back to the present.

Pressing the green button with grim resolve, I turned my back to the one girl who needed a knight in shining armor the most.

* * *

-Mikan-

"Well this is a new feeling." I said out loud to myself in the middle of the irritatingly white and sterile room.

And before you jump to any conclusions, the reason for saying this wasn't because of the shock I felt when I discovered myself in the hospital; or the questionably queer emotion I felt upon hearing that a certain maraschino-cherry-eyed male was waiting for me; or for the fact that the hospital gown I was donning strangely complimented my skin tone.

No, it was the bewilderment of discovering that no matter how hard I pinched myself, I felt absolutely no pain at all. And trust me, I'm a black belt at pinching.

A cough startled me out of my crazed ponderings (no doubt the nurse, the person who just coughed, probably thought I was some maniacal masochist now) and elicited an unfeminine, 'bah!' from yours truly.

The nurse scurried over, roughly pushing me back into the bed upon hearing the heart monitor alarm shrilly. "Why must all girls your age be frightened so easily? Honestly, back in the day, we were-"

Her rant gradually morphed into a hum, as my inattentive mind wandered freely to other, more interesting, topics. Completely not my fault, as I'm told often by an irate Hotaru that I have the attention span of an ADD patient.

I nodded mournfully at three second intervals, pretending to be the respectful girl my grandpa raised me up to be, but my glazed eyes probably gave it away as the nurse huffily said something and stalked away.

Distantly, a voice in the back of my mind inquired if I should be feeling ashamed at my latest show of disrespect, which triggered another part of my brain to play One Republic's _Apologize_. Man, I love that song. I wonder if they're ever going to perform in Japan... I must remember to ask Hotaru if she could pull some strings and check their schedule.

An impatient huff from no other than Hotaru the Mighty Dragon blasted its way to the front of my cranium. I could just hear her say to be in a commanding voice, 'pay attention, Stupid. Someone is going to enter this room and see you talking to yourself and really think you're crazy.'

And, as if my life was a messed up musical, Natsume strolled into the room. I saw his phone being tucked away into his back pocket.

"I have some bad news." Natsume whispered to me, slightly callused fingers wiping my bangs away from my face. They felt cool against my feverish skin, like a summer night's breeze. The earlier thoughts and voices that plagued my mind were swept away like light dandelions.

I closed my eyes and hummed contently. "Let me guess, they won't allow you to bring in Howalon?"

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "It's a little worse than that."

"Is it as bad as people's middle school e-mails?"

"Closer." He joked. Natsume removed my hand away from me, causing me to open my eyes in protest.

A strange sight met me: Hyuuga Natsume was wringing his hands nervously.

"Lay it on me, Kid." I sighed good naturally, patting his soft hair. Seriously, what does this man do to make his hair so soft? We use the same shampoo, but my hair always ends up with frizzy ends.

His garnet eyes danced away from me, the fidgeting becoming more evident, before I realized what the bad news was. I almost laughed out loud from relief, because his anxiety was making my tummy act up.

"Work, huh?"

Natsume's eyes darted towards mine in surprise. He froze.

"Where do you have to go? Somewhere far I'm guessing..." I tapped my nose thoughtfully. A calendar on the wall behind Natsume caught my eye, as I almost groaned out loud at my stupidity. "Fashion week is taking place in New York this year, isn't it?"

He remained unmoved, but his eyes betrayed his sorrow and apology.

"Don't worry about it. You are a successful model after all." I smiled up at him, giving into the temptation to reach out and smooth out his worry lines. "When do you leave?"

Natsume visibly relaxed, trapping my small hands against his cheek. "Leaving tonight. I'm sorry. Your knight will be out of commission until our next shoot."

I waved away his concern in a "don't-worry-'bout-it" manner, honestly feeling happy for Natsume. It has always been a dream of mine to participate in fashion week. What I was bewildered about, though, was why Natsume was so apologetic about leaving. "If I can survive 17 years of torture with Hotaru, then I'm sure I can survive two weeks without you."

"Wait-" He looked confused now. "You're 17? I thought you were 16."

"My birthday passed at the beginning of this month, remember?" I snorted. "Some knight you are... Can't even remember my birthday date... No wonder why I didn't get a present from you." I teased.

His eyes now became shifty, as if he was hiding something. He ruffled his hair like a preschooler.

Gosh. I didn't mean to come off as selfish. I don't need a birthday present, really! Okay, that was a lie. But still, I never expected Natsume to be such a sensitive guy.

I stifled a snort. Have I really gone crazy? This is Natsume we're talking about here- the person who was cocky enough to bet that I would fall in love with him.

"Well I have to go now." He abruptly said, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets. I frowned, not bothering to hide it, and opened my mouth to inform him that he doesn't need to get me a present before a haggard man with glasses burst into the room.

"We're going to be late for the plane!" The man wailed. His eyes were wide with apprehension as he continued his fretting. "And then we won't get to fashion week, and then your image will be ruined, and then no one will want you to model for their-"

Ah, right. Natsume's manager.

"Let's go Yuu." Natsume interrupted smoothly, gliding out of the room. "Ittekimasu, Orange." He smirked over his shoulder. The old Natsume I knew was back, as I bade farewell with a geeky salute.

"Good luck, Loser!" I called, forgetting about his lapse of secrecy.

* * *

It was midnight when I finally arrived home. I paused in the doorway, letting the enormity of my words sink in. Did I just call this place _home_? A building that I've only been in for a couple of days managed to become my home, whereas it took me half a year to call the apartment I live in with Hotaru, 'home'?

Everything honestly felt strange. In addition to the whole 'home' deal, standing in the hallway with Hotaru beside me instead of Natsume felt weird. Everything felt off, like normalcy revolved around Natsume rather than being its own separate entity. And-

Something huge and furry collided with my face while I shrieked shrilly.

"_Holy mother of fudgcicles and pudding!_"

Light flooded the room as I hit the floor with a painful thud. I wrenched the thing off of me and nearly melted with delight when I saw the cutest puppy I have ever seen in my entire life (but don't trust me on this because I haven't seen enough to merit this declaration). The young dog bounded happily in my lap and licked my face with unconcealed enthusiasm, before yapping excitedly at Hotaru, who disgustedly edged away in return. Something on its collar glinted in the fluorescent lighting as I managed to catch the squirming black puppy and read its dog tag, causing me to crack up hysterically.

"Nice to meet you, Shigure."

**A/N: **Sorry about the late update you guys! Work caught up to me like Neville against the army of Death Eaters in HP 7. Lame comparison, I know. Anyway, I apologize profusely to the reviewers who I never got around to responding to! The next update will be up soon, I promise. I'll even do the Unbreakable Vow!

In addition, to those who review, I'll give y'all a preview to the next chapter.


	8. The Revelation

-Mikan-

"Mikan." Hotaru warned, her right hand itching with the urge to smack me upside the head.

"Hotaru." I pleaded back. I maintained my notorious wounded puppy dog face in the process.

It's all in the eyes, Kids. It's all in the eyes...

"Please? I promise Shi-chan won't make a mess at the apartment. I'll look after him properly!" I fiddled with the hem of my shirt for effect.

She snorted. I couldn't tell if it was directed at my scrunched up face or my pet's new nickname.

"And, like I've said already, that thing will never come within a kilometer of our place. It either stays here or you stay here."

Sticking out my lower lip more, I shot her my 'on-the-verge-of-tears' look.

Hah. Try resisting me now, Hotaru.

With a resounding _thwack_, my disapproving manager walked out of the house with a, "the movers will be here tomorrow with your stuff anyways... No point in having you stay with me since that would clearly be inefficient and cumbersome." She slammed the door shut, leaving me alone with an overexcited dog.

Dang nabbit. Or is it dangnabbit? I wonder who made up that word... maybe it was supposed to be 'dang rabbit,' but people became too lazy to pronounce the 'r' so it became 'nabbit.'

Okay, I seriously need to stop daydreaming.

"Well, it's only going to be a week before Natsume comes back. That's not too bad, right Shi-chan?" I cooed. He yapped twice before batting at my face playfully.

But later that night, after Shigure settled down next to me on the bed, I dreamt of being trapped in a large, empty house with no one to save me.

No knight in shining armor.

No Natsume.

* * *

-Natsume-

_"Hello?" I picked up the phone, shuffling away from the emergency room, and getting into the safe confines of my car._

_ "Yeah." A bored voice drawled as I turned on the engine and smoothly parked into the nearest spot. I resisted the urge to growl at the person._

_ After a long pause, I grew irritated and snapped, "I'm assuming- since you seem too stupid to speak- that the dog's ready, so I'm going to do us both a favor and tell you the address you're going to get a responsible coworker- since I don't trust assholes like you- to deliver the dog to. I will then hang up to end our misery, much like how boxers end a match with one of them punching the living daylights out of the other, so you better have a pen ready right now. And another thing: I'm not repeating any of this, so suck up and look bright, Bane of my Existence."_

_ Needless to say, I was extremely tetchy at the moment._

_ Following my tirade, I heard the worker sigh into the phone and, believing that the noise of rustling paper meant he was obeying my orders, say, "go for it, Big Man."_

_ Through clenched teeth, I managed to bite out our address before punching the end button._

_ Did I just say 'our address'? I mean Mikan's address... Or soon to be Mikan's address since I'll be moving out._

_ Dialing my manager's number, I was unsurprised to hear him answer the phone after one ring._

_ "What did you do now, Natsume?" He panicked, muttering in his usual frightened voice._

_ Why does he always think that my calls mean bad news? Besides the last couple of times I've called him, when have I ever brought- I take that back. All of my calls have brought bad tidings to my unfortunate manager._

_"I want out." I stated simply. Yuu was smart enough to get what I was referring to._

_ His silence confirmed that he did understand._

_ I continued. "I want out because-" I grappled for an excuse that didn't reveal the actual reason behind my leaving, "-the house is... lame." I finished... lamely._

_ Yuu's soft footsteps echoed into the receiver. I could just imagine him pacing back and forth in the small confines of his office. He sighed tiredly before speaking. "You're going to have to deal with Sumire."_

_ Translation: the reason you gave me was complete B.S.; tell me the truth._

_ "I don't care. I want out." I stubbornly refused, shoving my hand into my pocket._

_ Translation: piss off, it's none of your business._

_ "You're going to fashion week today, so you won't be in that house anytime soon." Yuu consoled with a pleading note._

_ Translation: rethink this, you're known for making hasty decisions._

_ I groaned, knowing exactly what was going to happen next- Yuu will propose a compromise, and as usual, I will give in, and things will go his way. I've experienced his skills of persuasion firsthand, much to my dismay._

_ But things won't go his way this time. Hopefully._

_ "At the end of fashion week, if you still want out of the deal then I'll talk to Sumire. If not, then we'll pretend that this conversation never happened."_

_ Fashion week will end with me still wanting to cancel the modeling gig, I resolutely swore to myself._

_ I grunted in agreement._

_ "I'm all packed up. Where are you?"_

_ "The emergency room."_

_ Yuu sputtered into the phone, most likely wondering why I was there since my hatred of hospitals prevented me from coming within ten kilometers of one. "What did you do?" I heard him take out his stomachache reliever pills._

_ Am I being too hard on him?_

_ "Natsume! Holy crap, what would happen if the paparazzi found out about this? Then you're image will be ruined, and you'll be shunned by society for forev-"_

_ "Good luck finding me, Yuu. I'll be waiting." I saluted with a grin._

_ Nah._

* * *

Exactly 48 hours and 10 minutes have passed since I've landed in New York, and I already know how fashion week is going to play out.

Fashion week is going to consist of me remaining in autopilot the whole time, along with me walking down the runway bored out of my mind, and me attending photo shoots with snotty, pompous designers whose heads are too far up their as- butts.

Why does my brain always auto corrects me? Why can't I swear like before? Like before I met... my steps faltered. I came to a stop in the middle of the busy hallway, people angrily jostling into my body as I thought about a certain quirky girl.

Life just didn't feel the same without her and it's only been two days. Gods, I'm such a pansy.

"Move your ass already, boy!"

My feet started up again robotically, directing me towards the room at the end of the hall. Once inside, I found myself being welcomed into an interview room by several fashion designers and well known models.

Greeting them in my usual drawl, I sat down on the couch next to my fellow peers and waited for the usual barrage of questions. The door creaked upon a second time, and by the forced smiles everyone put on, I could only assume who just entered the room.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Natsume." A soprano voice drawled.

I mentally groaned tiredly. Slowly, I swiveled my head towards a tall orange-haired woman. Under normal circumstances, I would have turned on the old charm and returned the greeting, but instead I opted for a short, "Koizumi." In my current condition, toleration for the irritating model wasn't an option, and I wanted to make that message clear.

Apparently she didn't catch my drift, because she sashayed over to me. Reacting instinctively, I spread myself out as much as possible on the couch and blocked the space next to me that Koizumi was planning on taking. I knew it was immature of me to do it- and I probably looked like an idiot with my legs and arms draped all over the couch- but I couldn't help myself. I _really_ didn't want to have to deal with Koizumi's flirting.

An awkward silence consumed everyone after I melted on the furniture like butter on a hot pan. Something flashed through Koizumi's eyes, but another model offered her seat up to the influential female. Without a glance at the girl, Koizumi sat down nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. I withheld a snort; no doubt Koizumi had never had a guy reject her before.

What the hell did I see in her before besides her looks?

A cough came from the man who sat across from me. "Hello, and thank you for coming. I am the director of TWGM, George Taylors, and these are my colleagues Tatiana Buchene and Leanne Buchene." The two strawberry blondes next to George waved at us. "We are planning to create a new branch in Japan and have selected you five to be our lead models. We have already asked your managers and they've given us their consent, but the reason for this meeting is to debrief you guys about the company's image and have you sign a couple of papers.

"TWGM is a company that strives for versatility and minimalism..."

By then I had zoned him out. I walked into this room expecting for this meeting to end in five minutes. Obviously this wasn't going to happen. I tried imagining the different tactics I could use to distract everyone while I escaped this hellhole. That lasted for about ten minutes before I started thinking about Mikan. And the guy was still going strong with his lecture.

I believe an appropriate phrase for this situation would be 'FML.'

And then it was finally the end of day two. But I both embraced and dreaded returning to the private confines of my room. The former because I hated being around a bunch of fakes. The latter because being alone meant I was along with my thoughts, which meant that inevitably my thoughts would lead to Mikan.

I slid my hotel key in and entered my room as slow as a sloth. Tossing my jacket and wallet onto the desk, I turned on the television and flipped to the Japanese music channel. I found the sound of my native language soothing, despite being fluent in English.

Getting ready to take a shower, I was in the process of taking off my shirt when a flash of auburn distracted me completely. Fully turning around, my eyes ravenously drank in the familiar long, wavy hair and petite back of the girl who has been preoccupying my thoughts. I, unknowingly, sat down on the edge of my bed- leaning towards the television with intense concentration lining my face. And at last, it hit me.

Damn. I missed her.

The beginning strings of Alex's song, _Daisy_, softly filtered into my hotel room, but three errors became evident in the next second:

One- instead of Korean, it was sung in Japanese.

Two- instead of seeing the popular Korean singer, and my acquaintance, I saw Blondie instead.

Three- instead of revealing her gray eyes and face, Mikan kept her back fixed towards the camera on purpose.

And let's tack on a fourth thing just for shits and giggles. Four- why the hell was Blondie serenading Orange on national television?

The blood simmered in my veins as the song came to an end, and my fingers itched to pick up my phone and call Mikan. I refrained but that didn't stop my epiphany; the horrible realization that maybe. Just maybe, I was...

I was attracted to Mikan.

I ground out a string of swear words, rubbing my face tiredly, the truth of the epiphany crushing me like a ton of bricks. Jesus, I was _attracted_ to Mikan. I was attracted to _Mikan_. My taste in girls has definitely taken a dive. And then I realized that I had to call it off with Yuu if I wanted to stay with Mikan. Another groan, and I knew that Yuu had won another one on me.

Snapping up from my bed, I rushed to the room next to me and banged on it madly. "Yuu! Yuu, open the damn door."

A series of bangs and crashes from inside, and then my sleepy manager poked his head out with bloodshot eyes. "What did you do this time? It's 3 AM for crying out loud! Just leave me in peace... Please!"

I waved off his pathetic pleading, saying, "I want to keep working with Orange. You're right, and I'm wrong. I apologize, blah, blah, blah. Great. Now forget we ever made this deal and go back to bed."

His bewildered expression grew. "What? Orange? Deal? Huh?"

"The deal..." I reiterated slowly for my disbelieving manager, "is off. Done. Over. Never happened."

Yuu's gaping mouth slowly curved upwards into a relieved and triumphant smile. "I knew you'd come around."

"Fuck you."

Sorry, Orange, but I just had to get it out of my system.

* * *

I pulled up in the driveway of our cheery house.

I wonder if she was home.

Hastily making my way in, I explored the whole house and found no one. Sure, I was strangely disappointed, but I understood. It was only twelve o'clock... she was probably hanging out with her friends since it was a school holiday.

But then I heard it. I faint voice coming from outside.

Without even realizing it, my body automatically tore towards the girl- I hadn't seen her face since that day in the hospital. In the back of my mind I knew I craved it.

I craved her expressive eyes; her heart-shaped face; her carefree, sunny smile.

At last, I located her to be outside. My heart swelled at the sight of her in a pair of ratty sweatpants and baggy sweatshirt, and at the happily yapping dog who came bounding towards me in great leaps.

"Shi-chan!"

Forcefully willing her to turn around, she did and something hitched in my throat. Her gray eyes conveyed shock before twinkling with joy.

"Natsume! Welcome home!"

I shoved my hands into my pockets, pleased. Dang I was acting like a nervous kid.

"I'm back."

* * *

**A/N:** please don't kill me. And thank you so much for your reviews! Honest to the man upstairs... I will update sooner next time!


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